Unexpected Gift
by CS Shipper 4 Life
Summary: This story is part of my gift to my secret santa on tumblr – thedarkoneswan. Emma and Killian are just getting used to life back in Storybrooke as themselves when a surprise makes Emma question her ability to truly let people into her heart and Killian wonder if he can have a normal life by Emma's standards. There will be hints about spoilers for season 5.
1. Chapter 1

**_It is the holiday season and that means time for Secret Santa. This story is part of my gift to my secret santa on tumblr – thedarkoneswan. This will be several chapters, which will include some of the things I hope she likes. To give a little perspective, this is set after Killian and Emma are back to themselves from their adventures as the Dark Ones. There will be mentions and head canon about spoilers for the rest of the season. Enjoy! Happy holidays!_**

Somewhere families were sitting down to eat turkey and dressing, their plates piled high with aunts' favorite concoctions and grandmothers' traditional fare. Fathers would be carving the bird, telling embarrassingly corny jokes, and sneaking in a few of their own dishes to the mix. There are hugs from grandparents and comments about children having grown over the past year. Football games blared from televisions and someone is already starting to hum Christmas carols as families come together as though they have not seen each other in eons. Fragrant scents of delicacies wafted through the air as people chatted about old times and new. Fireplaces blazed with light and the first Christmas decorations were dusted and placed with care upon mantles and tables. That's what she had explained when the pirate in her bed that morning had asked what this holiday was all about.

Emma Swan had been looking forward to that, having never actually celebrated the holiday in such a way before. Foster homes did not have that sense of togetherness, as she always wondered what would go wrong next or when the next shoe would drop. However, this year was supposed to be different. She was supposed to have the chance. And yet as the turkey was coming out of the oven, Emma's phone sounded and broke through the reverie. She had sighed and reached into her pocket to grab it, her body still warm from the way Killian was holding her with his chin resting on her shoulder and her back against his chest. Her father was stirring up some concoction of punch and her son was helping his grandmother carry the roasted bird to the counter in the kitchen.

That phone call had sent Emma and her father, the town's only two law enforcement officers, speeding down the two lane road toward some unknown event. A loud noise had been reported at the edge of town, a car accident probably but everyone's whereabouts confirmed, it was a mystery in its own right. It was just a one person job, but her father, David, had offered an opportunity for father and daughter time. So far that had included David's chatter about her little brother who was trying so hard to take his first unassisted steps.

"He scrunches his face up each time he tries," David mused, his hands gripping the steering wheel under his thick winter gloves that his wife, Mary Margaret always insisted that he wear. There was a certain regret in his voice as he realized he was talking to the daughter he had only spent moments with after her birth, the daughter who had lived a difficult and almost impossible childhood because of a curse. He had not cast that curse, but sometimes when he was at his lowest moment, he wondered if he could have done more to have protected and taken care of his only daughter.

"I'm betting he's walking by the end of the weekend," Emma said, taking a glance at the phone and text message she had been reading. "He gets that determination as a family trait."

David's hum of contentedness broke as he cast a sidelong glance at his daughter. "Do you ever think about it?" he asked, broaching the subject in a careful way. "Kids I mean."

Emma's eyebrows raised in surprise that her father was asking her such a question. Her mother often hinted, saying that she wanted to experience being a grandmother from the start. However, her father was less enthused about such things and usually just spoke of wanting his eldest to be happy, healthy, and secure in her life. "I have a kid," she said with a defiant air to her protest. "Henry, remember him? He's about 13, dark hair, always got his nose in a book or playing a video game. I'm sure you've met him."

Her father rolled his eyes at the sarcasm that his daughter seemed ready to spew at any moment. It was a defense mechanism, but one she wheeled out with ease when the situation called for it. He knew that many found her to be quick witted, which she certainly was, but he sometimes feared that her sarcasm was just another of the scars that her early life had left her with. "I seem to recall," he said, rattling his voice so that he sounded older than his appearance would suggest. The fact that he did not appear to be any older than his daughter was strange, but he did manage to create that bond between them with jokes and embarrassing moments so she could turn the three letter moniker of Dad into a sixteen syllable word as she buried her face in her hands. "No, I was just thinking that you might be considering children at some point."

Flexing and contracting her fingers on the denim of the jeans she was wearing, Emma concentrated on the soft feel of the fabric and let his question truly sink over her. "I always swore I never would have children after I couldn't take care of Henry. He deserves better than me going out and starting a new family…" She broke off, as the situation could nearly be described as identical to hers. "I don't mean that…"

"No," David said with careful consideration. "I don't suppose it would be easy. I know your mother and I worried how you would react to Neal. He's getting everything that you never did."

"Dad, I'm not 13. I'm not jealous of my baby brother." The idea was absurd, which was saying something after all she had been through. Just two years earlier she was a bail bondswoman with a career, a handful of acquaintances, an apartment, and a solitary life where fairy tales were books and Snow White was a cartoon not her mother. Captain Hook was a comical villain with bad hair and fashion sense, not her boyfriend. The Evil Queen was someone you hissed at and rooted again, not your step-grandmother and friend. In two years she had slayed dragons, fought off witches, enacted spells, and survived any number of curses. The lives of she and her family and loved ones had been in jeopardy again and again, the life of everything she had come to hold dear in the balance of good versus evil. Her life seemed so much more out of control now, bordering on insane. But yet it seemed fuller too and somehow like home.

"Never said you were," David chimed in with his overly fatherly tone. "I'm just saying that you might look at this lull of quiet time as an opportunity. Your mother and I were thinking you might want to consider things."

"Things?" she asked, not completely sure she understood where her father was coming from with this conversation. "What kind of things?"

"Well, if we were in the Enchanted Forest, we'd have had a ball for you when you were about 21 or 22 to find a suitable husband. There's nothing wrong with dating, but you have to admit you aren't getting any younger. Perhaps you should consider something more stable." Running a gloved hand under his chin, David kept his eyes trained on the road ahead of them.

"Killian and I just moved in together. That's a pretty big step," Emma huffed, her arms crossed over her chest. "I'd like to remind you that you were against that. You said you didn't want me 'shacking up' with a pirate. Now you're talking about me marrying him and even having kids? That's a big leap."

Her father's eyes squinted as though he was searching for just the right words to say. "I didn't say Hook. There are other men who might be more suitable for marriage and all of that."

Emma shifted in the passenger seat so that she could face her father, her knitted cap pulled tightly over her head and the tips of her ears as her curled blonde hair floated over her back and shoulders. "You're kidding me, right?" she asked, incredulous to her father's apparent inability to accept her choice in a boyfriend. "I thought you liked Hook now. Dad, he sacrificed himself to rid us of all that darkness. He was willing to die for us. He's saved my butt more times than I can count. Do I need to list for you all the things he's done to prove himself not only to me but to every person in this town?"

David let out a shaky sigh. "I do like him, Emma," he said. "I do. I'm just not sure he's marriage material for my only daughter. You're the Savior, Emma, the daughter of royalty. You could have any man you wanted." He laughed nervously. "Are you sure that Hook is the man you want?"

With a frustrated grunt she turned away from her father and stared out the passenger window, her forehead resting on the cool glass. "I don't believe we're having this conversation. Who else would you suggest I date? One of the dwarves? Dr. Whale? Archie? This town is not exactly teeming with bachelors. Besides, I love Killian. We're happy together." Her hot breath steamed up the window, obstructing her view until she pulled the warm sweater over her fist and wiped it away. "This conversation is giving me whiplash. You're talking about me having kids and getting married, but telling me to break up with my boyfriend and start over. You can't have it both ways, Dad."

Keeping one hand on the wheel, David threw the other up in mock surrender. "I'm not telling you anything, Emma. I was just trying to gauge your state of mind on the matter. You and Hook have chosen to live in one of the largest houses in this part of Storybrooke. It just stands to reason that you might want to have some kids to fill up those rooms."

Emma's head lolled back on the seat as she groaned in loud irritation. "Dad, I think you've lost the right to talk about this."

"Alright, alright," David responded, pressing a little harder on the gas. "Maybe your mother is having better luck with Hook."

***HOHOHO***

Mary Margaret's hands shook with maddened frustration as she attempted to peel apart the plastic wrap she was attempting to place over the mashed potatoes. She did not want the meal to become inedible while her husband and daughter raced to the rescue of who knows what, but the battle against the static cling of the plastic was proving a challenge.

"I would offer to help, milady, but I'm not sure what you are attempting to accomplish," Killian said, his face contorted in confusion at the sight.

"This plastic," the brunette explained to him as though talking to one of her students, "is supposed to lay over the food and help keep the heat inside. But it is clinging to itself and not where it should." She exhaled dramatically, the hair over her forehead billowing up at the effort. "And I'm seriously considering alternatives."

The blue eyed pirates laugh was deep as he reached out and attempted to help his girlfriend's mother peel back the clinging plastic. It took a few tries, but soon the wrinkled and clear layer was snug over the bowl and fogging up with the steam that would otherwise be escaping. Looking moderately proud at his effort, Killian rocked back on his heels and gestured his chin toward the potatoes. "I'll never cease to be amazed by this realm's contraptions."

"Yes," Mary Margaret answered him, her eyes wearily tired from the job of trying to save their meal as others had abandoned her to put babies down for naps or to take walks to curb their appetites. "The technology of Storybrooke does have the Enchanted Forest beat, but I do miss it sometimes."

"Aye, there are certain differences that cannot be made up for by these conveniences. But I would say that Emma and Henry are more comfortable here in Storybrooke, though they certainly have made efforts to fit in when necessary." He spun to his right, grabbing one of the dishes that she pointed to and placed in on the oven rack to keep warm. Hearing her clear her throat, he almost asked if she was coming down with some kind of cold or malady, but realized it was her way of broaching a subject.

"That's important to you, isn't it?" she asked, lacing her fingers together and placing her chin at the intersection. "Emma and Henry being happy and comfortable."

One edge of his mouth turned upward slowly. "Emma's happiness is of the utmost importance to me. If I must learn to use a few devices to fit into her life here, I will surely do so without complaint. And as her lad is first in her thoughts, I shall do my best to make his life happier too." He said it very nonchalantly, as if there was no question about his devotion or desires. Maybe it was the way he busily put away the covered dishes and followed the woman's implicit directions to save the meal, but Emma's mother was impressed that he was trying so hard.

"You know that this," she said, making a sweeping gesture with her arm, "wouldn't exist in the Enchanted Forest."

His lips pursed with wonder at what she was talking about. "I'm afraid I don't understand. This house? No, I would imagine it would be a bit more rustic and simple, though Emma was born to live in a castle. So no, the house would not look as this one does." He leaned his hip on the counter and watched the princess turned teacher grope for her words.

"No, I mean living together. Her father and I would have insisted on something more formal given her title and role in the kingdom. But I realize she wasn't raised that way here and these are much more modern times here." Mary Margaret bent to lift the tray of Neal's high chair, snapping it into place with a single motion. "I guess I sound like I'm asking about your intentions toward my daughter."

Killian joined in with her nervous laughter. "Aye, you do. But I see nothing wrong with the idea that you are worried about the welfare of your only daughter. As I told your husband, what happens between Emma and myself is up to her as much as it is up to me. She has agreed to make a home with me here. If she would be so inclined, I would marry her immediately. I assure you, milady, my wanting to live with your daughter was not meant to be a slight to tradition. I was merely finding a way that Emma would be comfortable but would continue moving us forward."

It seemed like so long ago that Emma had confessed her reluctance for anything long term with anyone, telling her that she had more experience with one night stands than second dates. Learning that they were mother and daughter had dampened that comradery and candor, but those conversations they had as friends had offered the teacher more insight into her daughter than she had ever imagined. "You would want more?" she asked, feeling that knot in her stomach again. She knew that she had given up much of the rights to interfere with her daughter's life when they had made the decision to place her in a magical wardrobe. Emma had survived for 28 years without their guidance, love, or direction, something that was not easy for any of them to fully understand or step back into without effort.

As Killian had mentioned, it had not been that long ago that David had asked after his intentions on a dark and icy road. He'd given a flippant response in return and then showed his own colors when Emma had been in danger of freezing. While David was formidable as a prince and Emma's father, Mary Margaret was even more so. The woman's eyes were very much like Emma's with their ability to penetrate through a man. While David seemed all bluster and little bite, Mary Margaret's quiet dignity was off putting to even the pirate.

"I feel as though I should have a drink to continue this conversation," he said, raking his hand over this back of his hair.

***HOHOHO***

Reaching the town line, Emma ignored the tension of the conversation with her father and kept her sea green eyes peeled for any sign of the trouble reported. The trees were bare of leaves except the evergreens, creating an almost scraping sound as the growing wind made the branches rub together. She was out of the car as soon as David pulled to a stop, her gun at her hip and a hand on the curved end of it as she took measured steps toward the shoulder. Brown grass crunched under feet as she stepped off the asphalt.

"See anything?" David asked, his voice muffled as he leaned into the cruiser's trunk to retrieve a bag with their gear in it.

She didn't answer right away, her steps slowing and eyes honing in on whatever signs she could find. Then she saw it, the tracks that had pressed down the grass and mud to create two matching lines that left the road and headed toward the thicket of woods there behind the welcome to town sign. Waving her father over, she followed the tracks that indicated someone had lost control of a car, the scent of rubber from the tires faint among a sickening familiarity of burning oil. Her steps quickened as she realized what she was seeing, David's movements quick behind her own.

Just at the far edge of the woods a car sat overturned, windows busted and one of the wheels still turning in a fruitless effort to continue on the unpaved path. With the sickening realization, Emma and her father knelt by the glassless windows to confirm their fears that the couple in the front of the car were no longer living. Not recognizable to Emma or David, the couple appeared young but not among those who belonged in the Maine town of Storybrooke.

David shot a sympathetic look toward the car's occupants, staggering up from his knelt position and pulling out his phone. "I'll call for the coroner," he advised quietly, leaving her to stare helplessly at the mangled heap. His conversation was hushed as Emma took note of the situation.

They clearly didn't belong in town, as outsiders were not even aware of the town's existence. No one ever ventured over the town line from either direction, something they would have to study to understand the presence of this couple. Swallowing the familiar pangs of loss, Emma reached into the car to search out identification for the couple. It was then that she saw the car booster seat in the back. A plush toy sat buckled in beside it, clearly a ploy they had used to convince the child to ride while strapped inside.

"Any clue about who they were?" David asked, startling her as she stared at the stuffed mouse. "Driver's license? Photo id? Anything?"

She shook her head almost violently. "There's a child somewhere," she announced, backing away from the car. No child was in the booster seat, which meant to Emma that there was a boy or girl somewhere nearby. "We've got to search."

Leaning forward, David took in the sight, scanning the same clues that had led Emma to this conclusion. "Maybe the child wasn't with them? Maybe they were dropping off or picking up?" His voice sounded strained as he searched for plausible explanations, undoubtedly thinking about Neal in such a situation.

"No, the child's here," Emma declared, her sureness coming somewhere deep inside. Hands fisted at her side, she ignored the stench of the blood and gasoline mixing. Her expression growing darker as spun on her heel and walked purposefully away from the wreckage. Eyes shifting from side to side, she began her search in as organized a fashion as she was capable. From the size of the seat, the child was probably 3 or 4 years old. The stuffed animal and floral pattern of the seat indicated a girl. That was about all that she had to go on as she crunched through the brown leaves.

Only minutes old she had been found just off the road, her tiny body wrapped in a blanket that bore her name. It was the only clue she had to her identity for 28 years, the only tether to a world she did not know or remember. She was too young to be frightened or realize the infinite loss of being separated from her family. While they had suffered under the curse for just as long, they had no memory of her. She had known they existed, known that somewhere there were people who shared her DNA. And this child, whoever he or she was, would have such thoughts too.

The cold air was beginning to have a sharper bite to it, indicating that the weather reports predicting the season's first snow might be right on the money. That was not good news when there was a child wandering about in the cold without the proper attire. The mere thought that this child could be hungry, cold, and alone made Emma sick to her stomach. She could remember those sensations well. The hours at a police station at age six when she had run away from the drunken man who was threatening her while her foster mother had been in a stupor too deep to care. She remembered her first night sleeping under her jacket in the park when she was 13, not sure if anyone even cared enough to look for her.

"Emma!" her father called, breaking through the racing thoughts of her mind. "Over here. There's something this way." Boots sliding on the leaves, Emma ran in the direction of her father's voice to find the man staring down at a black Mary Jane, the leather shining against the browns of the leaves on the ground. "I'd say this hasn't been there long."

Emma knelt to grab the shoe, holding it to her chest as she advanced along the covered path in that direction. Her theory seemed to be right, the child – presumably a girl – had escaped unharmed and wandered from the scene of the crash. The images of the girls' parents flashed in Emma's mind. Both were sandy haired with fair complexions. Nothing extraordinary about either. She surmised that the girl might look the same, light features rather than dark. She wished she had carried the stuffed mouse with her, as it might have been a way to calm the child, but she hoped that it would not be necessary. Considering the situation more, Emma thought she would tell David to meet the coroner while she took the child around a different way to avoid traumatizing her with another view of the accident scene.

David and Emma only walked a few feet more until they found the little girl. Blonde hair tangled with velvety red ribbons holding it back, the little girl was curled into a ball and halfway under a bush there beside a large oak tree. Her red dress was embroidered around the collar and dusty with remnants of leaves clinging to the fabric. She was missing just the one shoe and had a large tear in the white tights she wore on her legs. Her eyes were shut on her tearstained face that boasted a scattered array of freckles.

David took two steps toward the child before Emma placed a shaking hand at his elbow. "No," she said quietly. "Let me."


	2. Chapter 2

**_Here is chapter two of this fic for my CS SS. Since they have not named Robin and Zelena's baby on the show, I named her Corina for Cora and Regina._**

Emma could recognize the fear in the little girl's expression as her crystal blue eyes locked onto her green ones. Every fiber of the child was trembling both from the cold and uncertainty of that moment. A silent and strangled cry emerged from her as Emma knelt there on the ground, her knees staining from the damp leaves and mud.

"Hi," Emma said, offering what she hoped was a nonthreatening smile of greeting. "I'm Emma."

The little girl scooted backward, bumping her head on the low branch of the bush. Her hand, complete with chipped nail polish in a bright pink color, reached up to rub the wounded spot, making tiny circles with her fingertips. She said nothing, blinking only when necessary and giving a few fleeting thoughts to an escape route.

"Are you okay?" Emma asked, ignoring for a moment that this child was staring at her as if she was back to her previous Dark One self. "It's okay to talk to me. I'm not going to hurt you."

David was a good three feet behind his daughter, peering with curiosity at the sight of his daughter gently coaxing the young girl with platitudes and comments. He listened as Emma told her again who she was and complimented the girl's now stained dress and torn tights. Though the blonde child said nothing in return, Emma seemed to be pretending that the conversation was a two way street, responding to the unspoken answers that hung in the air between them.

"I bet you are hungry," Emma said. "Why don't we see about some food for you? And maybe some clothes to change into?"

It was then that Emma acknowledged her father. "She looks to be about Roland's size, don't you think? Maybe he has something we can use until we find out what's going on here. If you'll go meet the coroner and call Robin, I'll call Killian and explain we'll be later than we thought."

Looking back and forth between his daughter and this frightened child, he hesitated to follow the directive. Emma was a good person, a fine sheriff, and so talented at many things, but he'd seen her falter when it came to children. Sometimes she felt so uncomfortable with her own brother that she would thrust him back into her parents' arms in a show of defeat. So many times her body and voice would become taut with fear, but it seemed almost as gentle as he'd ever heard it now. With a nod and a quick grin at the little girl, he strolled back along the trail they had followed.

Emma breathed out, her breath creating a little white clouds in the dropping temperatures. She could see that the child was shivering even more as a strong gust blew. Shimmying her shoulders, Emma slid out of her red jacket and held it for a moment of indecision. She wanted to give it to the little girl, allow her some protection from the weather, but she knew that the child would reject an advance at that moment. So moving with guarded slowness, Emma lowered the jacket to the ground and folded it neatly in front of her.

"You look like you're cold," she explained, talking as if the two of them were old friends. "I thought you might need this." Not fully standing, she inched back from the jacket. "You can wear it if you want. It's all yours."

The cold clearly getting to the child, she moved slowly toward the coat, crawling slowly as if an animal afraid of its predator. Emma could better see the freckles that seemed so dark against the pale white skin. She lifted the jacket, placing it over herself like a blanket. And just as sure as she had been actively moving, she dropped down to curl on the ground under it and stuffed an extended thumb into her mouth.

Emma wanted to reach out and stroke the girl's back, remove the leaves and twigs from her hair. But she knew such a move would be risky and probably backfire on her, so the sheriff's hands remained clenched at her sides. "You've been through a lot today," Emma said, resigning herself into talking the girl into trusting her. "I bet you're tired. If you would like, I've got a warm car over there where you can sleep until we figure out where to find your family."

The girl's eyes snapped back open, confusion and fear evident. "Family?" Her hand was just inches from her mouth, the damp thumb ready to return.

"Yes, do you want to tell me who you were going to see today?" Emma asked. "Maybe a grandmother? An uncle?"

"I'm hungry," the child declared, again filling her mouth with her thumb.

"Of course," Emma cooed a bit, struggling up to standing. She took a couple of hesitant steps toward the child and stopped when she seemed to be uncomfortable. Bending at her waist, Emma extended a hand and smiled again. "Wanna see what we can find in the car?"

Shifting under the jacket, she little girl furrowed her brow and watched her blonde protector intently. "Candy?"

Emma couldn't help the small smile at the girl's innocent question. "Probably," she admitted as though telling the girl a secret. She cupped her hand over her mouth to emphasize. "My dad likes candy. He's got a sweet tooth. I'm always finding it in the car." Without waiting for Emma's assistance, the small girl was on her feet, the jacket again on the ground around her feet. Emma reached for it and placed it over the child's shivering shoulders. "You hold onto that and we'll find you something to eat."

***HOHOHO***

Killian ran the plate under the faucet, still slightly amazed at the concept of running water as a norm in Storybrooke. There was not even a need to put water over a fire, as a simple turn of a handle gave him warm water galore. While the adults had agreed to hold off eating until David and Emma returned, Robin and Mary Margaret had fed both Roland and Neal, as Regina placed a bottle at the ready for Corina. Henry was involved in some sort of board game with Granny as a few of the dwarfs were debating the best way of decorating the house with lights for the holiday season.

Placing the plate on the rack to dry, he wiped his hand on the nearby towel and scanned the kitchen for something else he could do to kill the time. The idea of making small talk with a group of people he'd recently tried to send to the Underworld as part of his plans as the Dark One seemed fruitless. They had said they forgave him, offering their own tales of times when they had been overtaken by dark thoughts or needs. However, he had a hard time making eye contact or discussing anything other than absolute necessities with them.

Emma was the exception to that rule though. She had not immediately forgiven him, or him her. They had talked about it and talked until both were quite disillusioned with the topic. It was not until three days after their return from the Underworld that she had shown up on the deck of the Jolly Roger with her face void of makeup and her hair a tangled mess.

 _"I don't know how to forgive and forget," she had admitted. "I push all of those things aside and pretend like they don't matter, but they eat at me until I can't stand to look at the person anymore."_

 _"Aye," he had said, his voice hoarse from finally falling asleep. He watched her through bleary eyes as she paced the small confines of the cabin he called his own. "I suspected as much. Too much was said and too much was lost to fully…"_

 _"I should be mad," she said, interrupting him. "I should be furious, but all I can think is that I did all of this because I can't lose you. And what kind of idiot am I if I just push you away and lose you that way?"_

 _He watched her throw her head back as if she might scream in the frustration of the conflicting emotions inside of her. "Emma, I don't wish to hurt you and despise that I caused a single tear to fall because of the words I uttered against you."_

 _"I think we've both apologized enough," Emma declared, her eyes closing and her head bouncing back against the wood of the wall. "I can't lose you, Killian. I can't lose you because Arthur nicked you with a powerful sword or because my pride says you were a jerk when you were under the influence of being the Dark One. I can't lose you because I don't know how to make it up to you that I went against your wishes."_

 _"I don't wish to lose you either, love." His eyes adjusted slowly to the low light of the cabin. The waves making the lantern sway to and fro and cast oddly shaped shadows on the wall like long fingers that enveloped her. "I love you, Emma. I always have."_

 _"I love you too," she said, sighing inwardly to bring not only oxygen into her system but perhaps courage. "I worried that wasn't enough, that wasn't a big enough thing for us to get past this. But maybe it is. Maybe it is all that matters."_

He might have stood there in front of the sink for a while longer, remembering the way that her lips had crashed against his or the way she and tugged him closer and closer until he had to gently remind her that they didn't have to meld into one body at just that moment. Her laughter had echoed in his ears and the weight of her falling onto him as they toppled onto his narrow bed was now engrained in his memory. But the phone in his pocket gave him no time to reminisce. He did not even bother checking the screen to discern the caller's identity, as Emma was the only viable candidate.

"Hello, beautiful," he said, his lips already stretching into a smile at the thought of hearing her voice.

She greeted him back with a tiredness that made him worry, a sure sign that whatever trouble she and her father had expected was worse than anticipated. He half believed she was about to drop the bombshell of some new villain that the group would face in the coming days, some magical beast that would threaten their very existence. So to hear her waxing on about a small child was not in the realm of his thinking.

"Swan?" he asked, almost wondering if someone else had called him. "Did you say a child?"

"Yes," she answered distractedly. "I'm waiting on Archie to get here and then we're going to see if we can find some of her family. I know it is a lot to ask since this whole family Thanksgiving was my idea and all, but would you mind…" She continued on to ask for sandwiches for her and David, suggesting that he might sneak in a sweet treat or two for the little girl. "And clothes," she added at the last minute, instructing him on what to ask Robin and Regina.

"Of course," he said, trying to push down the questions that were tumbling in his brain at the moment. He asked the pertinent questions and then set about the tasks she had requested. About 20 minutes after she called, he was out the door with a few extra items that she had not even said a word about.

***HOHOHO***

The thermostat at the station was at its lowest point, evidence that there were no prisoners behind bars, nor anyone planning to do any paperwork over the long weekend. Shivering without the use of her jacket, Emma rubbed her hands over her arms and bounced in place while her father fiddled with the device on the wall and summoned the dinosaur of a furnace back to life. "I think I should get back over there as soon as possible," Emma declared when he turned to face her. "She's all alone with doctors and nurses. Well, I mean Archie is there."

Her father nodded, turning his attention to the rusted file cabinet beside a bulletin board with out of date wanted flyers and notices. "I thought we should get the paperwork together. And since you're better at these computer things than I am, I thought you might do a search of the tag number of that car. See if we can figure out who the girl's parents were and where we might find the rest of her family."

His logic was sound, but Emma could not help but feel anxious over the idea of this child being left to her own emotional devices while poked and prodded by a doctor. She immediately considered that she should ask Regina about money in the budget for a tablet or at least a laptop. Maybe Henry had one she could borrow. It seemed inhumane to consider sitting in the cold confines of the office doing google searches and calling contacts when that little girl was probably scared and needing someone to hold onto at that very moment.

The sharp sound of Killian's hook against the door interrupted her thinking, as she looked up from the first page of reports she had pulled and saw him there with a backpack over one shoulder and a canvas grocery bag looped over his hook. She discarded the work quickly run walk toward him, placing a chaste kiss to his lips before digging into the bag and throwing her father a sandwich and plastic container of one of the sides.

"I'm a horrible hostess," Emma declared as she peeled back the plastic wrap. "All those people at our house and I'm working."

"Trust me, love, they understand. And you'll be there soon enough to feast on all that bounty."

While Killian had brought sandwiches and all the fixings that he could fit into the containers, he had not brought drinks. David took care of that by starting a fresh pot of coffee and fishing some soda out of the minifridge. He was back to calling in the license plate number to a few databases when he nearly spit out his bite of green bean casserole. "And we've got a hit," he declared. "I'm going to go check the files in the store room."

Emma nodded thoughtfully, running a hand through her blonde mane. "I don't know that I can explain it," she said in answer to Killian's question about why she appeared so vexed. "She just…the child. She seems so young and innocent. I wish I could say I couldn't imagine the pain she will be going through once she realizes her parents are gone. But I know that loneliness. I know what it's like to feel like a burden because of the kindness of others. I know what it is like to feel like you never belong."

He lifted her hand from where it rested beside the half empty containers. Running the pad of his thumb over her knuckles. "Aye, it is a hard life for this young lass," he said, silently reminding her that he had felt such emotions himself. "But you and your father will find her family and she will be well."

"I hope so, Killian," she said. "I hope so."

***HOHOHO***

Killian accompanied her to the hospital where the doctor and nurses had given their young patient a thorough work up. Not too surprising, Emma noticed that the tray of pressed turkey and greasy string beans was virtually untouched by the child, her freckled face barely peeking out from behind the curtain of tangled hair.

Archie was sitting in a vinyl chair next to her. Except for a few doodles, his pad was basically blank, indicating he had made little headway with the child. "Nothing appears to be wrong with her physically," he explained. "I have yet to talk to her about her parents, but she's not asked either. Seems she is a bit aloof and certainly suffering from shock of everything that has happened."

Killian clapped the man on the shoulder, forgetting for a moment that he was quite nervous around the pirate after past encounters.

"Any word on any family?" Archie asked, skirting along the edge of the bed to the opposite corner of the room.

Emma shook her head, moving the tray out of the way and reaching into the bag that Killian had brought. There was leftover Halloween candy, a slice of her mother's pecan pie, and a few cookies that Henry and Killian had made in an attempt to be domestic. She placed a package of chocolate candies in front of the girl with the corner torn off so that she just had to reach for it. Sure enough, the girl dove into the treat and removed her thumb to give a crooked smile of thanks before her stoic expression returned.

As small of a victory as it was, Emma felt enthused and perched herself on the arm of Archie's vacated chair. "I'd like to introduce you to my friend, Killian," Emma told the girl, pretending again that they were having a conversation and not a one way monologue for the sheriff.

"Pleasure," Killian said as though she had just extended a handshake to him. Emma was pleased that he seemed to be falling in line with her. "Those are my favorites too." Killian pulled a matching pack out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Emma. "Perhaps we could join you for a little snack."

She pretended not to hear them, plucking one chocolate candy at a time from the stack in front of her. She would place it on her tongue, savor the taste and then choose the next one. The candies were organized by color. She would take one from one color and then from the next, methodically chewing each in turn. Killian opened his mouth to mention it, but Emma shook her head.

"We'd very much like to know your name," she said patiently, "but it's okay if you don't wish to tell us. I was shy too at your age."

The confused expression on Killian's face melted to more of since of longing as he imagined a young and vulnerable Emma. Surely she had been so full of life before the string of foster homes and people hurting her had made her so distrustful. This little girl had none of the haunted regret in her eyes, which like Emma he hoped would remain the case. But the little girl didn't answer them.

"Maybe you would like a new name," Killian said when Emma exchanged a pleadful look with the therapist. "You can choose whatever you would like us to call you."

For the first time since they had entered, the girl's owlish eyes looked up at Killian, regarding him slowly. "Hannah," she said softly. "My name is Hannah."


	3. Chapter 3

**I hope that everyone is enjoying this story, especially my CS SS – thedarkoneswan. Have a great week people!**

The candy seemed to be a salve to the child, her defenses coming down somewhat as she popped it into her mouth and revealed that she was four years old, her name was Hannah, and she wanted a cat. Emma wasn't sure what to do with that last piece of information, but she tucked it away as she and Archie attempted to extract a bit more information such as her parents' names or where they were headed that day. All she would say to that question was, "the home," which the trio each interpreted differently.

"You're a very brave lass," Killian told her when she began to calmly tell them of the accident that had claimed the lives of the other passengers.

"The car was upside down and I fell," she said quite matter of factly. Her voice was quiet and remained quite flat as she described loosening her the restraints of her seat and landing on what was the interior of the car's roof. At her age and limited vocabulary, the story was not easy to follow and was littered with divergence from the topic. Archie expertly directed her back with questions and Emma managed to interpret a few times to both her and Killian's surprise.

Realizing that most of the information had been gleaned from that line of questions, Archie switched tactics and asked Hannah how her day had begun. Emma didn't hear the answer as her father's footsteps arrived and he waved her into the hallway. Killian preceded her, keeping his hook just out of sight of the child.

"You found something," Emma said more than asked her father.

"The car was registered to the state of Maine's Child Services Division," David said, pausing to let Emma's mind catch up with this development. "The coroner found identification on them. Best we can tell, she's a cop out of Bangor and he's a social worker with the state."

Emma stepped backward as if her father had punched her, realizing the gravity and familiarity of the situation.

"I'm not following, mate," Killian said, casting a worried glance in Emma's direction before turning his attention back to David. His handless arm wound around her waist, his hook resting at her hip.

"It looks like the child may be in foster care, or was until this morning. There was paperwork in the woman's bag about removing her from the care of some family in Bangor. Something about concerns of abuse and suspicions of fraud."

"On Thanksgiving?" Emma asked, spitting out the holiday because she knew that meant the situation was serious. Whatever was happening in that home meant that Hannah's life and wellbeing had been in danger. These officials had taken time on their holiday to take her to... Emma spun on the soles of her boots toward Killian, looking over his shoulder at the narrow window on the door to the room. Hannah was still sitting there, her hair now pulled back in a messy pony tail that one of the nurses had done earlier during a test. It made sense now. When Hannah had said she was going to the home, she hadn't meant her own home where there would be safety, a bed, toys, and doting parents. No, the child had meant she was going to the group home in the next town over.

She hurriedly explained that knowledge to her father, who agreed that it made sense to him too. His large hand grasped around her shoulder and he took a step toward the door. "This is probably tough on you," he acknowledged. "I can take her over to the group home that the nuns or fairies or whatever have been running. They've still got several of the lost boys over there. We can make some calls tomorrow about getting her back into the state's system." He shuffled his feet a few steps before she called out after him.

"No," she said, breaking the silence that had fallen. "That's no place for her. She's for, Dad. The boys there at the home are teenagers now and have been alive for centuries in some cases. She'd be the only girl and far younger than any of them. She can come home with us."

***HOHOHO***

Killian followed Archie over to the table in the corner of the room where he signed his name to the top of a stack of documents. "We'll see what we can do after the weekend," Archie promised, tugging on the arm of his glasses nervously. "Maybe we can find out where he family is and why she was in the system in the first place."

Through the corner of his eye, Killian caught a glimpse of Emma bundling Hannah up in the coat that had been Roland's. It was a simple brown material with a fleece lining that the boy had outgrown last year. She had also changed her into a soft pair of jeans and a sweatshirt with some cartoon character on it. Killian wasn't sure who the character was supposed to be, but he reckoned that Hannah did, as she squealed joyfully before clamping her hand over her mouth when she saw it.

Before re-entering the room Killian had unfastened his hook and hid it in the bag of items he had carried. A missing hand might be a bit frightening for her, but a hook would be harder to explain. "Ready to go?" he asked Emma as he saw that she was watching the girl with a worried expression.

She looked up from her study with a relieved smile. "I believe we are." Crouching down next to the bed, Emma made sure she was on eye level with the little girl. "Hannah," she said, waiting for the girl to acknowledge her. "Killian and I thought you might like to stay with us tonight."

The girl processed this idea, offering no sign of her acceptance or rejection. While she wasn't sucking her thumb, a sign that Archie said was one of regression, she was systematically plucking at the buttons on her newly acquired jacket. Emma allowed this movement for a minute before she covered the smaller hands with her own.

"Tomorrow we can go shopping for a new outfit for you. You can pick out anything you like."

This idea at least interested the girl who looked up at them with more interest. "Anything?"

Killian knew that Emma was seeing something of herself in the child, recognizing the abandonment and confusion that she must have felt when the Swan family had sent her back into the system at a similar age. He could feel his own rage at whoever had been tasked with the girl's care, sure that Emma's was even more. "Aye," he spoke up, crossing the room in three steps to stand next to the bed. "And perhaps a trinket or toy too?"

Emma again appeared relieved, straightening up to standing. She opened her arms out to the child, stating that she could walk or Emma would gladly carry her. Hannah appeared torn by that question, wavering before she stood on the hospital bed and gingerly walked into Emma's embrace. The sheriff was careful not to squeeze too tightly, hoisting her up on her right side and gesturing to Killian to grab the bag.

"I have called your mother, Swan," he said, using his foot and elbow to hold the door open for them. "She's warming up some dinner for us so that you may have your Thanksgiving feast of more than just a sandwich."

Emma stopped cold, her blonde hair flying as she whipped around to face Killian. He could not help but notice the way that her golden mane mingled with the similarly shaded blonde curls of the child in her arms. "Oh crap," she said, biting back the word she was thinking. "We can't go back there with everyone…it'll be too much for her."

"Already handled," he explained. "Your father spoke to your mother. Regina and Robin took off a bit ago. Granny opened up the diner for all the stragglers. It'll just be us with your parents, Neal, and Henry."

That still seemed like a large crowd, but Emma was grateful not to have to explain all of the guests to a child who seemed on the verge of shutting down with each new entry into her life. She smiled a tight but grateful expression. "You're brilliant," she complimented in a tongue and cheek way that mimicked his own style. He couldn't help but guffaw at her attempt once again to copy his accent and make it her own.

Archie called out assurances that he was just a phone call away, adding quickly that some of the nurses had dug around in the supply closet to get a safety seat for Hannah and that her father had managed with Regina's help to get the familiar yellow car there to the visitor lot for them. It was then that Killian worried Hannah might have fears of riding in a car after her ordeal, but she took it in stride until she realized that Emma was not going to sit back there with her. Small fists clutching at Emma's sweater, the blonde sheriff explained that she had to drive, claiming that Killian was horrible at that sort of thing.

"I could sit in the back with her," he hesitantly offered, expecting the child to completely balk at the mere suggestion. However, Hannah seemed almost relieved and he found himself sitting sideways with his ear near his shoulder in the cramped space. What he could talk to the child about, he wasn't sure. However, Emma was only inches away from him and on more than a few occurrences met his gaze in the rearview mirror.

The ride itself was uneventful and thankfully Mary Margaret and the rest of Emma's family restrained themselves from darting out of the stately house in greeting. Still, Killian saw the curtains pull back and then shut just as quickly as if someone had chastised them for seeming too eager and overwhelming.

The bag was heavy with the child's torn and dirty clothes, a few items that they had not used, paperwork, more candy, and Killian wasn't sure what else. Emma had unfastened the child from the seat like a pro, waving off his admiration for the effort with a quick statement that she had watched her parents do it with their son. Hannah eagerly went back to the woman's embrace and they quickly found themselves at the front door where Emma almost snorted out a laugh. "I didn't imagine it playing out this way," she said, reaching for the doorknob with her free hand.

"Imagine what?" the pirate answered in confusion.

"Us bringing home a child from the hospital like this," she clarified, the satire of the situation not lost on her.

It took him a moment, the culture and age difference between them again rearing its head. Then the meaning dawned on him. "I didn't realize you had imagined any such scenario," he said with a bite of his own sarcasm. The future, in whatever form, still seemed quite nebulous between them and without too many boundaries. It had taken long enough to get to the point of sharing the same home and bed, but discussions of marriage, children, and anything more lasting were avoided with diligence.

Emma only shook her head, managing to place her cheek against the crown of Hannah's head for a brief moment. Even as their eyes adjusted from the outside to the inside, they could both tell that Mary Margaret was on the verge of needing physical restraint from rushing toward them. The pixie haired woman rose to her toes and then down again, a move she repeated several times. Henry was more still, but his smile reached far across his face as he watched the girl do something so simple and push a puffy cheek against Emma's shoulder.

"Hannah," Emma said, calling the girl's attention. "I want you to meet everyone."

David took the lead in greeting the child, knowing that while Emma had been more prominent that she probably at least recognized him. Like his daughter, he ignored the owlish eyes that seemed confused by this man talking to her, welcoming her to Storybrooke and asking if she was hungry. When she didn't immediately answer him, he acted as though she had and was directing everyone to get things on the table and ready to go.

Hannah said little during the meal, taking fast but small bites of the food that had been rewarmed and heated so that the family could share a holiday meal together. It didn't take much spying to realize that her favorite was the baked macaroni and cheese. Even while she left some of the items untouched on her plate, she had finished the cheesy pasta dish first and was already downing a second helping that Emma had scooped onto her plate.

The conversation around the table was light, as each of the adults in turn took a look at Hannah, darting their eyes away before she looked up. When Killian realized just how much she liked the macaroni, he would covertly place forkfuls of it on her plate and then wink saucily when she tilted her head to either question or thank him.

Mary Margaret, always the planner, began to make lists for Emma about what would be needed. "I think Modern Fashions will have a few things. You'll need play clothes, pajamas, some things for school. Mrs. Potts has an opening in her preschool class, same one as Roland. That would probably be good for her to have some structure. Oh maybe sign her up for ballet class. There is something so adorable about a little girl in a tutu and tights."

Emma looked at the half eaten plate of food and back to her mother. "We don't know if this is a permanent thing yet or not. There might be complications."

The brunette woman's face fell, realizing perhaps for the first time that this was not so cut and dry. Intermingled with the memories of her own childhood were those of her cursed life of 28 years in Storybrooke. Some were real and others figments of the magic that had brought them there. Somewhere in that was the memory of helping a stray puppy and finding out days later that she belonged to someone else. That had seemed such a hard lesson to learn. "Well a few things anyway," she told her daughter. "Might as well make things more comfortable."

David patted his wife's hand, knowing that she was already considering ways to help the child settle into life there. "Maybe Hook…err…Killian and I can set up that room at the end of the hall for her. It'll be close enough you can hear her in the middle of the night. And it'll be comfortable for her too."

"Aye," Killian piped up, noting the way that Hannah scooted closer to Emma as her head began to droop. "I think that would be a splendid idea. I suppose we best get to it given the state of the lass."

Emma nodded her approval before standing and lifting the girl from the table. "I'll take her in the other room. Can you…"

Henry and Snow quickly jumped into action to clear the table with Killian and David hurrying up the stairs toward the bedroom they thought would work. From the couch where Emma sat with the sleeping Hannah, she could hear her mother humming Christmas tunes and the occasional thuds and scrapes upstairs. Once free of his duties from Mary Margaret, Henry joined the two men upstairs, apparently running back and forth between the makeshift room for Hannah and his own bedroom.

"She seems to be comfortable with you," Mary Margaret said in a hushed tone, extracting the throw that Emma had curled up under the night before and placing it over her daughter's shoulders before she sat down in chair facing her.

"I don't know that it is comfort as much as she's just tired," Emma said, her hand lightly trailing over the errant curls that have escaped the haphazard ponytail. "She's so young to have to deal with all this."

Her mother bit her lip, blinking a bit faster. "You went through this type of thing didn't you?" she asked. It was a blunt question, but even the teacher wasn't sure how to best phrase it. "When you were younger?"

"Something like this," Emma said without looking up. "I don't think now is the time to talk about it though."

Thankfully David and Killian's loud footsteps on the stairs indicated that they were done with their tasks. Trampling into to the living room, David looked tenderly at his daughter and Hannah, sighing in conjunction with the child's swipe her at her nose as she slept with her lips parted and her head cradled by her other hand on Emma's lap. He didn't say anything, leaning down and kissing Emma's cheek and then signaling to his wife that they should go.

"Call us later," Mary Margaret mouthed, holding a hand up to her ear like a phone.

Killian walked them to the door, receiving a hug from the teacher and a sympathetic look from David before he returned to Emma and Hannah there on the couch. Looking a bit conflicted, he moved to sit in the chair that the brunette had vacated. However, Emma gestured with her chin for him to join her there on her left side as the child curled to her right. "I hope the room is satisfactory for her," he said in his quietest tone. His breath was warm against the side of her face, blowing back some of the strands of hair that framed it. "I must admit I'm not quite sure what a young lass might like for accommodations."

The bewildered look on the pirate's face was a bit much for Emma, who stifled her laugh. "I don't know either. I didn't really have my own decorated room or toys unless I had to share them. But I'm sure what you guys did will work fine."

Looking at the side table where the brown envelope of papers that they had signed with Archie sat, Killian ran his hand along his hairline near his ear. "I suppose you might know best. What will happen to her? Will these people Archie spoke about find her another home?"

Her lip bore the indentation from where her teeth had chewed nervously. She simply and quietly explained the process as she knew it, flinching at words like group homes and temporary shelter. "It's not an easy life for anyone."

"But there must be people who would want a beautiful lass like her as a daughter," Killian protested. "Didn't you say there were couples that came to those homes in search of such?"

The dwindling fire in the fireplace crackled and popped as Emma's green eyes filled with unshed tears. "Possible," she clarified, "but the older she gets the less likely such a situation becomes." The child against her shifted and curled the hand under her cheek more like a cradle. Emma and Killian both watched her a bit breathlessly, taking in the sight of her there and peaceful.

"She looks like you, Swan," he said almost wistfully. "I could see you being just as precious as a wee lass."

Emma's smile was sad as she lifted her eyes toward him. "I'm sorry I didn't ask if it was okay to bring her back here," she said. "I didn't mean to make that choice without you."

"I would have spoken out about it if I'd seen a problem, love," Killian said, brushing his cheek along hers, as he looked down at the child. "The child is need of shelter and we have that to give. So why not?"

Emma could think of hundreds of reasons why not, many of which circled around the ideas of logistics. Plus there were also concerns over her mental state and Killian's after all they had been through in Camelot and the Underworld. It seemed unfair to even consider adding more to their lives at that point.

***HOHOHO***

Emma left the door to the room Hannah was occupying open a crack as she crept into the hallway to find her son supporting a cardboard box in his hands. "Grandma brought it. Some Christmas decorations and whatnot. I thought we might put them out tomorrow. Hannah might enjoy doing that. I know I did when I was a kid."

She tried not to laugh or cry at the idea that the little boy who had wound up on her doorstep in Boston no longer considered himself a child. He stood nearly as tall as her and his voice was deeper than the childlike cadence of his begging her to end the original curse that befallen the citizens of Storybrooke. She was touched that he was taking such an interest in Hannah, already donating a shirt too small for him as a nightgown for her. He'd even dug out a teddy bear that had been relegated to a shelf in his room, placing it on the chair next to the child's bed in case she might want to hold it.

"Sounds like a nice idea," Emma agreed, touching his arm lightly. "We'll go through the box and maybe buy a few more things to add to it."

Henry's smile was very much like his fathers, his eyes squinting as his lips spread over his teeth. "You know, mom, I've always wanted a little brother or sister."

The blonde's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Henry this isn't…it's just temporary. We aren't even thinking about…"

"I know," he said, lifting his shoulders awkwardly with the box still balanced on his forearms. "Just putting it out there. It is great to have this house and all, but it gets kind of lonely here. When I'm at mom's there is her, and Robin, and Roland, and the baby."

"So you sort of already have a brother and a sister," Emma pointed out, not telling him that a desire to have a sibling was far from a strong reason to adopt a child. She was also not about to discuss with him her own feelings of inadequacy when it came to motherhood.

"Couldn't hurt to have another," he said casually. "And think of it this way, you get to avoid the diapers and the bottles. She's already a kid."

***HOHOHO***

"Everything settled?" Killian asked as Emma dropped back against the pillow, an arm thrown over her forehead to shield her eyes. Their bedroom in the house was cavernous and Emma had said she might never fight enough lamps to adequately light the dark room. However, as bedtime neared, Killian had left only one lamp burning on the bedside table. His back was lounged against the padded headboard of their bed and the latest edition of the Storybrooke Daily Mirror was across his lap.

A voracious reader, Killian was often up late with a novel or some other book that Belle had recommended for him. When they had moved his stuff out of Granny's, the number of books outweighed most of his other personal items by half. Still it was a bit of a shock to see him staring at the filmy newsprint. "She's asleep and I left the door open a bit so we can hear her if there's a problem." She rolled onto her side, folding the pillow in half to give her a bit of height. "I thought you couldn't stand newspapers."

"Aye," he agreed, his handless arm holding the pages in place so his other hand could tilt the paper and show her. "I was reading about some of these items for sale in the stores about town. Seems that many of them have toys and such for children at this time of year."

Emma nearly giggled at the perplexed way he was scouring the Black Friday ads. "You want to buy her a toy?" she asked, clarifying that was on his mind. However, the collage of pink and feminine items on the page was clue enough.

"The lass has had a hard day," he said thoughtfully. "Surely a toy would brighten her smile."

"You don't have to do this, you know," Emma broached carefully. "I can take her for some new clothes and necessities. It's not mandatory she have dolls and whatnot. In fact, she probably will lose most of them at the group home the moment she arrives. People in those places have very little concept of personal belongings."

Laying the pages back across his lap, Killian slid a little lower in the bed. "Perhaps we could consider something a bit more…more permanent? We have the room, love. We could surely care for a child with the proper help and encouragement. Your mother would likely be eager to help, as would your father and half the town."

"Have you been talking to Henry?" she asked. "This isn't the type of thing you decide on a whim. And there are processes, forms, tests, classes, and all that. It isn't that easy. We can't just say we'll keep her like a kitten we found wandering around. She's a child. She needs parents who would love her and care for her."

"And you don't think…"

"This isn't about whether we are right for the job," Emma protested by interruption. "It's just that we aren't ready. We just got back. You were dead, Killian. I lost you. What if something happened again? I just don't think I'm ready to do this. It's a big responsibility."

"I know, love," he said, tossing aside the paper. "I just thought you might wish to do this." He reached over to turn off the lamp and then sank fully under the quilted covers, his arm pulling around her waist so that his hand rested just at the small of her back. "She's a lost girl. Just like you were. Abandoned as we both were. I just thought…"

Emma shut her eyes tightly to ward off the emotions that were spinning inside her. "We'll talk about it later," she murmured, placing her fingers over his lips. He placed a soft kiss to them before dropping his mouth to hers, the comfortable quiet of the night overtaking the glaring realities of day.


	4. Chapter 4

This chapter has been a bear to write. I have lost it twice with computer issues. It wasn't what I was planning, but it is here. Dedicated to my CSSS thedarkoneswan

Hannah spun slowly in front of the mirror, her expression one of disbelief and confusion as Emma sank down beside her and smoothed down the hem of the sweater. "This one seems to fit," the blonde woman said with a half grin of approval. "I think it's a keeper."

The two had been at it for more than two hours, quite a feat for a woman with very little child rearing experience and a four year old. However, the volume of clothing alone had seemed outrageous and abundant. Those young eyes became huge as Emma and some poor sales girl stacked jeans and pants in one corner and sweaters and shirts in another. Even more unbelievable to Hannah was that all she had to do was smile on nod her head slightly and the item was hers. She was not sure what she had done to deserve such things, but she hoped that it was not just a dream.

"I think I like the blue one," Emma declared as they tried to decide between two similar shirts. "Which do you like?"

Hannah was not all that silent of a child when given a chance. That morning as Emma had slept in a bit, the child had sat between Henry and Killian eating waffles and watching a singing crab on television. She had not even noticed that Killian seemed bewildered by the entire matter or that Henry was laughing at something she didn't understand either. Instead she had sang along with the Caribbean sounding tunes, asking Killian and Henry about their favorite moments, and bounced along at her favorite parts. Neither Henry nor Killian could get a word in edgewise and both winked at each other over the towheaded child.

However, the Hannah in the store was back to her shy self who pointed instead of asked and would smile politely at certain things. "Blue," she answered a bit dully.

"Would you like both?" Emma asked, holding the items up for a closer look.

Hannah breathed in and watched Emma for a moment before she stepped closer and took the items in her hand. She shakily tugged one shirt on over her head and then with a bit more effort covered that one with the second. It took Emma a moment to realize what she was doing, but suddenly, it dawned on her. Reaching out gently to touch her wrist, Emma smiled. "We can buy both," she said, emphasizing the word buy.

Hannah paused again, her form shapeless under the multiple layers. Suddenly, she reached out and hugged Emma, her thin arms wrapping tightly over her shoulders and her head dropping to her neck. Though Emma did not want to come on too strong, she couldn't help squeezing the little girl to her before pulling back and telling her that she was more than welcome.

***HOHOHO***

Hannah's new winter coat was red, something that she had pointed out to Emma when she saw it. "It is like yours," she whispered as they buttoned the last of the black buttons. "I can look like you."

The pleased smile and excited way that the little girl spun in a circle made Emma swallow hard, taking back in the emotions that threatened to interrupt. She knew that children Hannah's age could often make attachments. That feeling of not belonging was probably not something that she could articulate, but the need to join or have something in common was still strong. "We'll have to wear them together," Emma said, blinking back a tear that threatened.

In the end they had to call Mary Margaret to come fetch some of the items that would not fit in the little yellow car that Emma drove. Though Neal was a bit fussy and clinging to his mother's shirt, the teacher immediately noticed the similar color and complimented the young girl who was holding Emma's hand without provocation. "I think that is a beautiful color on you," she said seriously. "Looks beautiful with your hair. And perfect for this season."

With her free hand, Hannah tugged on her knit hat and pulled it nearly over her eyes. But her sparkling smile shone through with the pride at being compared to Emma and told she looked nice. Craning her neck back, she looked up to catch Emma's own smiling gaze.

"So is Dad at the station?" Emma asked. "I think he and Archie were going to look at what options we have about Monday or whenever."

The teacher shifted Neal's weight in her arms, gently pulling his curled hand away from her necklace. "They are waiting to hear from Regina," she said quietly. "Seems that your father has some concerns about how you might cross the town line. And how you might explain this place."

Emma shared her father's concerns over that. She and David couldn't really just show up with a four year old and say they found her in a town that did not exist on any maps or rosters. Things would have to be dealt with carefully, as would how to handle Hannah who had not been all that aware of where she was going the day before. "We need to see if they were expecting her or if…"

Interrupted by the tug at her hand, Emma looked up to see Killian approaching them. He had obviously been running his hand through his hair, as little tufts stood on end in a messy pile. "Quite a sight of lovely ladies," he said as he swooped in with arms pulling Emma toward him. "I'm a lucky bloke to have the opportunity to greet you all."

Hannah rose to the balls of her feet, nearly bouncing as she saw the top of a package peeking out from the bag that hung over Killian's handless arm. He was not wearing his hook, using the prosthetic covered in a black leather glove instead. Emma had told him that if they did not make a big deal of his missing appendage that the child would not either, but he hated the idea that it could in anyway upset her. Placing a kiss against Emma's cheek that was appropriate enough in the company of her mother, a baby, and a small child, the pirate began to chuckle at the inconspicuous way that Hannah was trying to spy on the package contents.

He dropped down to a squatting position, one denim clad knee on the cold concrete. "I see that you have good eyes and keen observation skills, lass. But I'm afraid I have nothing all that interesting in my bag. It was on sale at a little shop not too far from here this morning and I got it to give to young Neal here. But he's not quite old enough for it. Do you know anyone who might like it?" Fishing his hand into the bag, he pulled out a set of Legos that would build a pirate ship and a book that the clerk had helped him pick out.

Hannah's hand was still clinging to Emma's, pulling her fingers tight in her own as she leaned forward to stare at the colorful box. "Can I have it?" she asked, her mouth opening like a bow. "I'll take care of it."

"You mean to say that you would like this little toy?" Killian asked, mockingly perplexed.

"Yes," she practically squealed. Dropping the woman's hand, she lunged for the items and pulled them tight to her chest. "Thank you!"

The smile was enough to convince Killian that he had followed the right advice, as her happiness was evidence that the item was correct. Emma laughed as he stood up and puffed out his chest a bit to show his satisfaction. "You do have a way with the ladies," Emma told him, winding her arm through his. "Maybe now would be a good time for you to invite us to lunch. I think Hannah and I could use a few grilled cheese sandwiches and maybe some soup."

"Aye, it'd be a pleasure. If your mother would care to join us?"

Mary Margaret shook her head. "No, I've got to get this little guy home for a nap and your packages dropped off. I promised Belle that I'd bring him by for the 4 p.m. story time at the library. Maybe you'd like to go? Hannah would enjoy it."

They promised the teacher that they'd see about making there, making no guarantees. Mary Margaret hugged her daughter and said a quick goodbye to Hannah and Killian before securing the fussy Neal into his car seat. She smiled the expression of a woman in the know as she watched her daughter and Killian interact there on the sidewalk.

"It appears your shoes have come untied," she heard Killian say, hoisting her up into the air. One arm was around her back and the other under her knees as Emma tied her shoes. The blonde child gave a little kicking motion with her feet, showing off that the ones Emma had picked lit up with dazzling lights in the heels. Hannah laughed at the sight and threw her head back to look up at Killian.

"Do you like my new shoes?" she asked, honest sincerity dripping from the question. "Emma helped me pick them.

"I've never seen such a thing. But they look lovely on you, lass."

***HOHOHO***

Granny Lucas was not known for being the most cheerful of people, so the smile she managed to give Hannah as she slid the mug in front of her was a rare sight. Killian and Emma sat on opposite sides of the booth with the blonde child at Emma's side. Her chin rested on the table and her cheeks were pink from both the excitement of the shopping excursion and the cold weather outside. They had successfully navigated Modern Fashion's limited supply of children's clothing, picking up more than a few outfits. When Killian had pointed out that Emma was saying the girl would only be in their care until Monday, she had shrugged her shoulders and said that the clothes could go with her and would certainly be needed.

"Three cocoas with extra cinnamon for Emma," the woman said, trying not to stare too hard at the child. By Friday afternoon everyone had heard there was a visitor in town and rumors had swirled that she was a spy for the latest villain planning to infiltrate their ranks to a lost princess left behind by some other curse. "Anything else I can get you while you wait?"

Killian had been the one to suggest a pit stop at the familiar diner for grilled cheese, claiming the breakfast they had shared earlier was long gone from his stomach after so much shopping. Twice now he had mentioned that in his youth there had been no such conveniences, but Emma had hushed him quickly to remind them all that Hannah was not aware she was in a town of fairy tale characters and such information shouldn't be shared so easily.

"I think we're all set," Emma said, dragging a finger into the swirl of whipped cream that was melting fast. "You do make the best, Granny."

"Aye, I don't think Emma would survive without a daily fix of your delectable treats." He winked a blue eye at the widow, who blew out a flustered and muted response to enjoy before she turned and stalked away. Laughing to himself, Killian turned his attention to the two ladies in front of him. "Seems we procured quite a haul today."

Hannah watched as Emma curved her hands around the mug and drank in the warmth with a gentle sigh. The child seemed quite fascinated by the sight and mimicked it with her own gloveless hands cradling the chocolate filled mug. However, the moment the hot liquid touched her lips and tongue, she practically dropped the mug and shrieked out at the pain. Emma looked mortified that she had not warned the child of the reaction.

"Singed your tongue did you?" Killian asked, his hand deftly pulling the mug back from the edge of the table. "Let's let that cool a bit for you, aye?"

Emma clucked sympathetically over her young ward, handing her a glass of ice water that had been delivered as they arrived. "This will help," she said encouragingly.

Taking a tentative sip of the water, Hannah's solemn gaze turned to the mug that had caused her pain. As evidenced by her candy binge the day before, the child loved chocolate to excess. However, this little treat had not sat well with her. Resting her head on Emma's arm, the child stared forlornly at the drink as if that might help to cool it quicker.

Killian had another idea though and dipped his spoon into his untouched water to fish out an ice cube. He dropped it into the chocolate concoction with a whistling sound effect that made Hannah almost emit a giggle of delight. She caught herself though and remained skeptical as he repeated the motion once more with her drink and then with his own. Holding it out as he had done many a pint of rum or ale in his day, he gestured with his head for her to do the same, as well as Emma. Even Emma had to laugh at the dramatic way to do this. Whispering to the child to be careful, Emma joined in the toast and took another sip.

While Hannah was not exactly a talkative child, Emma certainly noticed the tight lips and the way she sat uncomfortably when either of the adults asked her a question. Though frustrating, she was not sure the reason for it. In her experience as a foster child, Emma had been anxious to speak as a child. She liked the attention and the chance to speak her mind.

"So tell me about your shopping adventure," Killian prodded, Emma. "It must have been quite profitable for some of the shop owners."

"We got some good things, didn't we Hannah," Emma answered, earning only a quick smile from the little girl. "Do you want to tell him about some of your new clothes?"

A conflicted look crossed the child's face. "Can I talk?" she asked, repeating herself when they didn't quite hear her around the mug.

"Of course," Emma answered, confused why the child who had begun to open up would even ask. "Why wouldn't…"

"No talking at the table," she answered, obviously repeating someone. "If you do you get the paddle."

Emma's eyes switched quickly over to Killian, who looked as though he was beginning to catch on as well. Clearing her throat, Emma leaned forward a bit, cradling Hannah's cheek in her hand. "You may speak any time you have something to say," she explained. "Nobody in our family will say otherwise. We want you to be happy here, okay?"

Hannah nodded, turning back to Killian to answer his question. She rattled off a list, pausing for his questions and comments. If she noticed that Emma was quiet, she didn't say a word. It could not have occurred to the girl that Emma was having her own struggle at that moment. She could not have known about Mrs. Docking and the rule that children should not speak. She did not know about the Randolph family and the fact that they hit children for any perceived infraction. And she did not know how much Emma wanted to push down the voices and give this child a life that she deserved.

***HOHOHO***

"We are having story time most afternoons now," Belle told Killian as Emma and Hannah looked in the children's section for a story they might want to read at home. "You could bring her back on Monday after school. Is she going to go to the day academy with Roland?"

Killian folded one arm on the reference desk and leaned into it. "Aye, if she's here…"

"Oh," Belle said, her cheeks pinking as she realized she had assumed the wrong thing. "I'm sorry. I just thought that you and Emma would want to keep her with you."

"I think it is a bit more complicated than just wishing to provide the lass a better life. Emma has experience being a mother to Henry, but I have never…I doubt I have the bones about me to make a very good father. It's not something that I come by naturally." He could not help but notice that Emma's natural gentleness seemed to shine when dealing with Hannah. There were the soft touches or the way she sat back and let the child try things on her own. She spoke quietly to her, really appeared to listen, and seemed to consider the ramifications of each decision.

Belle rocked backward, smiling at the sight of the woman and child. "I don't think you give yourself enough credit, Killian," she told him. "But you're right. It is a complicated decision. One that everyone in this town would support, you know."

***HOHOHO***

Emma made her way back to the house just as the sun was setting. For an hour, she and her father and Archie had picked Regina's brain over how best to handle the situation with Hannah. The security of the town rested on their not being discovered, something that could not be guaranteed if Emma took the child back to be a part of the state's system. While Emma was reluctant to do so anyway, this bit of news seemed to bolster her determination that the child should remain in town for the time being.

"Your mother and I were thinking," David said hesitantly when Archie left with a promise of doing more research. "We could see to Hannah if you are thinking not to do so. She could have your old room."

"Are you thinking I'm not doing a good job?" Emma asked incredulously. "I know that Killian and I are not exactly experienced with this, but…"

"I think your father means it might be a bit much right now," Regina added. "You only just got him back from the Underworld. We're in a lull right now, but what happens when the next villain hits? Your parents already have Neal to watch out for. Another child wouldn't be that much of a hassle."

"She's not a hassle," Emma protested. "And Killian and I are doing fine with her. She absolutely loves it at our house."

"She's only been in town 24 hours, Emma," Regina pointed out. "Perhaps we should give it more time."

"That's all I'm asking for," Emma said firmly. "Time."

She left there with a promise that she would consider the options – limited as they were – carefully. However, a quick phone conversation with Killian confirmed that though nervous, he was willing to try.

"I meant to make us something to eat," Killian said a bit sheepishly when the cold blast of air came through the door along with Emma that evening. "It's just that we got a bit occupied with…" His voice broke off, her raised eyebrow of suspicion not helping the situation at all.

There in the center of the simply decorated living was what appeared to be a tea party, but Emma was sure that couldn't be right. Captain Hook could not possibly be sitting cross legged on the floor with one of the bows that she had bought for Hannah in his hair. It was barely hanging on to the hair just over his ear when she stared at it, causing him to dart his hair up and pull it out as if that might erase the memory of it somehow. Hannah was wearing one of the dresses they had picked out that day, a pair of Emma's high heeled shoes, one of Killian's vests, and a knit cap on her head. While they had no plastic tea set for her, the two of them were drinking out of mismatched mugs. A plastic pitcher of fruit punch sat at the center of the table.

"It appears that I missed the party," Emma said as Hannah made a beeline for her, hugging her leg tightly as Killian lumbered to his feet. "Should I be jealous I wasn't invited?"

"We're having tea," Hannah explained impatiently. Her two small hands grabbed Emma's left one, pulling off the leather glove and then tugging her toward the makeshift party. "Come on."

Killian gave a bit of a bow, waving an arm at the set up. "I could serve you, milady. Perhaps an appetizer before dinner?" When she agreed that sounded wonderful, he plucked up her hand and kissed her knuckles in a big show of affection.

The three of them settled around the table after Killian and Emma pulled out a few of the various containers of leftovers. Turkey sandwiches and potato pancakes with green beans and some sort of casserole turned into their dinner. Emma even managed to slide away for a few moments to dress for their meal, picking her own party dress and pairing it with sneakers and a sweatshirt as to match the child's aesthetic. Killian made a fuss over how beautiful both ladies looked and pretended to pull out chairs for them at the coffee table by tossing throw pillows down on the ground. When Hannah wasn't looking, Emma flicked her wrist at the fireplace and lit a nice fire for them and then did the same with a few candles, making the setting quite festive.

When Hannah spilled a bit of the fruit juice, she looked as if she might cry in fear that she had done something wrong. Bottom lip quivering, she was practically unable to be consoled as Emma attempted to reassure her and Killian easily wiped up the splatter.

"It's all gone," he said, sliding over to sit next to Emma who was holding the child against her. "Look, Hannah."

The child's nose was red and her eyes blinking back fat tears as she stared where he was pointing. "All gone?"

"Aye," he said. "You shouldn't worry. It is nothing that can't be fixed."

Sniffling and resting her head on Emma's upper arm, Hannah appeared to be over the worst. "I don't want you to send me away. I won't mess anything else up. Please don't be mad."

She looked to Emma for confirmation, which she received in the form of a smile and nod. "We aren't mad, Hannah," Emma added. "We like having you here. And guess what? I haven't talked to Killian yet, but I think we have arranged it so you can stay here with us through Christmas. What do you think?"

"Christmas?" she asked, her tears stopping their flow for a moment as she considered the possibility. "Santa will find me here?"


	5. Chapter 5

**_One more chapter this weekend for the fabulous thedarkoneswan. It will probably be a day or two before I can update again. I've got a day full of meetings tomorrow at work and a job interview with more meetings on Tuesday._**

"Hannah, do you see Henry?" Killian asked as the girl tugged him in the opposite direction he had been heading. It appeared that all of Storybrooke had gathered outside of the library for the annual tree lighting. Despite the oddity of the tradition to most of them, it appeared that everyone was in the spirit already. Dwarfs donned red and green sweaters, while Granny had a pair of felt antlers combed into her silvery hair. Mary Margaret and David were wearing matching Santa hats, as was Neal in a miniature version. Speakers and lights had been rigged from any surface that stood still with carols blasting. Even Mother Nature was in on the act with snowflakes floating in the air in contrast to the two bonfires that had been set for roasting marshmallows and warming up.

"No," she declared boldly, pulling him along. "But there's cotton candy."

"Well," the pirate said thoughtfully, his eyes scanning the crowd for the young man in question. "We must see about that."

Just to the right of the makeshift stage, some of the staff from Granny's stood selling various sugary treats. Killian was not even sure what most of them were, but he could tell that the mere mention of them was making Hannah's mouth water. Her golden curls bounced as she pleaded for one of the pink clouds of sugar that he was sure Emma would find some objection to on one account or another. Lifting her up to better see the selection, he balanced her on sitting on his left arm and grabbed one of the larger clouds from a waitress he knew worked the late shift.

"Isn't it great?" she asked, eyes closing as she savored the first bit of it.

Having never seen anything like that on the high seas, Killian reserved his judgement until after a bit of the pink sweetness melted onto his tongue. Rather than closing his eyes, the pirate's shot open at the sickeningly sweet magic trick in his mouth. "Aye," he agreed. "It's brilliant."

The duo eventually found Emma off by the bus where the students from the Storybrooke Academy are preparing to go on stage and regale the audience with songs of the season. Henry was standing there in front of her, at least a good three inches taller as she tries in vain to readjust his tie.

"Henry!" Hannah called out. In the short amount of time she had spent with Emma and Killian, she had already begun to see Henry as someone to look up to and admire. He was incredibly patient with her, shortening his steps when they walked together and digging through his old toys at Regina's to split between her and Roland. Given that he had watched many of the same shows just a few years before, she managed to carry on conversations and read to her from books that Emma and Killian knew nothing about.

Henry wrenched his tie away from his mother and kneeled down to scoop up the young girl who was already babbling away about cotton candy and men in funny sweaters.

"You seem to have kept her entertained," Emma said, wrapping her arms around Killian's waist so that she was flush against him. Her blonde hair fell down her back as she stared up at him for those few seconds before he closed the gap between their mouths with a soft kiss of greeting. When he pulled away to the sounds of Henry telling Hannah not to look because it was gross, Emma giggled girlishly and still kept her arms around him. "You taste like cotton candy." It seemed like an accusation in a way, a challenge since he had said they should not ply Hannah with sweets at the expense of her health.

"Perhaps," he said, smiling. "I seem to remember you said you like it."

"Of course," she told him, turning her head to the two children and dropping her ear to his chest. "So what do you say we find ourselves a seat before Henry goes on stage?"

Henry gave the young girl a bit of a shove in the adults' direction, promising to find her from the stage. He and the other students from the advanced classes were looking all too embarrassed at the spectacle, as parents applauding every action was meant for the younger set. However, he waved to them and waggled his eyebrows before taking his place in line.

As they walked toward the improvised bleachers that had been set up in front of the stage, Emma see her mother already lining up the preschoolers for their turn. Front and center was Roland, who was being cheered on by an enthusiastic Robin and even more enthusiastic Little John. The larger man was waving and calling out the young boy's name as though he was the first in history to sing Jingle Bells off key.

Killian and Emma stifled their laughs when one of the preschool students made a break for it, mowing down two distracted parents and leaping over three of the seated dwarfs on his way to who knows where. The other students kept singing as David sprang into action with Neal snug on his chest. A few moments later tall prince came back with the boy over his shoulder, marching him onstage and placing him in the spot left empty for him. When the crowd applauded David's efforts, he cradled his son's head and took a bow to the delight of the amused parents.

"Lively bunch," Killian whispered to Emma as Hannah settled into her lap with her legs across Killian's. "Are we sure that is the right place for this lass?"

"If we're going to have her with us for any length of time, school's kind of a must." Emma watched her mother attempt to garner the attention of the young class. It was like herding cats. One child was grabbing the microphone and attempting a solo. Two of the boys were chasing each other and three of the girls were waving to their parents. Emma wasn't sure what Roland was seeing, but he was turned away from the crowd and staring intently at a spot off stage. "But I agree this group is a bit rowdy."

A few feet away from them sat Regina. The normally stoic woman was smiling at the sight in front of her, peals of laughter catching the air as some of the antics got out of hand. When the group was finished, they were dismissed back to their parents as the next group tromped onto the stage. Roland plopped down between his dad and Regina, peeking over his father's shoulder at the baby bundled up in pink and asking in his own version of a baby voice if his sister thought he did a good job.

"Can I go see Roland?" Hannah asked, still struggling a bit with the name. She pronounced it like two words – Roll and And. "Please."

Unable to mask the smile that she had already mastered saying please to get what she wanted, Emma nodded and told her to stay there and not wander off. Nodding happily, Hannah scampered off in that direction and called out loudly to her new friend.

"I think she'll be fine in school," Emma told Killian, letting his larger hand cover both of hers. "She'll make all sorts of friends."

"Aye, I believe she will," he agreed, spying as she and Roland took Regina's phone to play some sort of game on it. The two sat with their heads ducked together and squeals of delight interrupted the off key music of the first and second graders.

By Emma's estimation, the night was going to be long. The seventh and eighth graders were the last group and she wondered just how many carols she was going to have to sit through. She knew most of the classics and joined the crowd in singing them, goading Killian to do so as well with the lyrics being shown on a screen over the students' heads. Just as she had thought, he had a pleasant voice and she wondered how to get him to do that more often.

"Perhaps for you as a private audience," he teased, as though he could read her mind.

They listened to a few more songs, periodically checking on Hannah and snuggled up under the blanket that her mother had reminded them to bring. To Henry's delight he was not witness to the kisses they exchanged or the way that Emma burrowed into the crook of Killian's neck. David was not so lucky and said as much when he plopped down on the vacated seat in front of them. "I could arrest you, you know?"

"For what, mate?"

"Public displays of affection with my daughter," David said, exaggerating his mock shudder. "What the two of you do in your own bedroom is your business. I just don't need to be witness to it."

Emma lightly kicked her father with the toe of her boot. "I'm not a kid here, Dad," she reminded him. "And if you don't like what you see, turn your head."

"And here I was coming to tell you that Archie said he's hit a bit of a dead end looking for Hannah's birth parents. It'll be the new year at the earliest. So it looks like you've got a new family member for the holidays."

"We've already told her that she is with us through Christmas," Emma reminded him, though she was a bit disappointed in the news about the girl's birth parents. She was curious and knew that someday Hannah would be too.

"Aye, the lass is starting school here on Monday," Killian added, looking quite proud for a moment. He had told Emma that in his day only the wealthiest of children got to go to an actual school. Others were taught at home or through the church. So the idea that education would come so easily to a little girl with no family of her was remarkable to him.

Emma bent at the waist and smoothed the hat on her brother's head. She could see the concern on her father's face, but even Mary Margaret had suggested school. It wasn't such an odd concept, though it did seem to add a bit of permanence to the situation. "We thought it might be good for her to be around some other kids," Emma clarified for her worried father. "Preschool is all about playing. She'll have a great time and we can get a better handle on her."

"Probably is a good idea," he agreed, tipping his chin toward Roland and Hannah. "Looks as though she's well on her way."

***HOHOHO***

Hannah couldn't seem to tell them if she had been to school or not before, but Emma took that as a no and began to prepare her for that Monday. A call from Killian to Belle resulted in an off hour visit to the library where the dark haired beauty stacked his arms high with books about first days of school and making friends. There were so many that Emma laughed for a good 10 minutes at the sight of him balancing them as he walked through the door.

"I thought you were going to get one for a bedtime story," Emma scolded, her steady hand printing Hannah's name onto a new lunchbox. Preschool did not last the whole day, but Mary Margaret had invited the little girl and Roland to have lunch with her that Monday. The prospect of eating at the same table as a teacher and the older kids had them both excited, though Hannah didn't quite understand the concept.

"There were a great many selections," he explained as he placed them on the table and began to sort. "There's one about a frog that goes to school, but I thought she might not like frogs. Some young ladies don't. So I got this one about a bear that goes to school, but it was a bit long. And I thought that maybe she would not like to read about an animal so ferocious. So I got this one about some little ducklings, but they are mean to one of the ducklings. That might not be such a pleasant thought to put into her head. And this was about a raccoon, but they are such bandit like creatures." With each description the lines on his forehead got deeper. He seemed truly concerned that he might have picked the wrong ones.

"What about stories about children?" Emma asked, stifling a grin at how adorably frantic he was becoming over the idea. "She might like one of those. It would help her relate."

"There were several of those as well," he announced, diving back into the stacks. "This is about a little boy's first day of school on the moon. Is that even possible, Swan?" He pulled out another. "I found this one about a little girl who was sad to leave her dog at home the first day of school. And this other was about a teacher who is afraid." He continued to describe them as Emma finished putting a notebook, pencils, crayons, and other supplies into a new backpack. "Swan, I'm not sure which of these is even appropriate."

Capping the pen she had just used, Emma placed a consoling hand on his forearm. "It's okay, Killian. She's not scared at all. She's excited and asked if she goes to sleep now can she go to school as soon as she wakes up." Her eyes searched his features until his lips turned up in a little hint of smile. "I think it's cute when you're so thorough."

Killian crinkled his nose and looked a bit sheepish as he lifted his right hand to the spot behind his ear that always foretold of his uneasiness. "I may have gone a bit to excess."

Looking at the towering stack, Emma couldn't hold back her laughter any longer. "I'll say. You've got…Killian, why did you get these. There were several thicker volumes that seemed way beyond the purpose of a four year old's educational beginnings. "This is about…"She lifted it and read the spine. "This is about saying goodbye to your daughter on her wedding day. And this one is about explaining sex to your daughter."

"I just sort of started pulling any title with daughter in it," Killian said, his cheeks nearly red with the discussion. "I didn't mean to insinuate that she could be our daughter. I know that there is much to consider."

"We keep saying that, don't we?" Emma asked more of herself than him. "I guess we do need to figure out what the heck we are doing here." Busying her hands, she began to separate the books into appropriate for Hannah and more appropriate for an adult. The titles got stranger and stranger. There were books on the trouble with raising a teenager. When should you allow your daughter to date? Homeschooling techniques. How to build a playset. Cooking with children. How to get into the Ivy League. What to Expect When You're Expecting. Was he kidding?

Emma held up the last of the books. "Do you even know what this is?" she queried, her eyebrows raised nearly to her hairline. "It's a book for pregnant women. I'm not pregnant, Killian."

"I didn't think…" He snatched it away from her and began thumbing through it. "I didn't realize it was this."

"Did Belle see you get that one?" she asked, her voice rising to a high octave. "Belle is not known for keeping secrets. Nobody in this town can keep a secret. Except maybe Dopey. Oh my God. They are all going to think I'm knocked up."

"Emma, I meant no harm. I will simply return the book and explain my mistake to Belle. It's a simple fix."

She threw her hands up in the air, backing away from him. "Do you hear that? Somewhere Granny is starting to knit a blanket. My mother's planning a baby shower. My father's loading a gun. This is insane. I'm going to have to explain to everyone what happened."

"Emma, please calm down. I will fix this. Nobody will think less of your virtue."

***HOHOHO***

Barely able to keep her eyes open, Hannah listened to Killian read to her from the book she had picked out of the stack. She'd been more than a little excited when she had crawled into bed that evening, asking question upon question about school and how it all worked. Emma tried to answer most of them since Killian's own knowledge of the educational system of that realm was somewhat lacking.

Her eyelashes were thick dark curtains framing her eyes and the smattering of freckles on her pale nose and cheeks was nothing short of adorable in his book. His voice grew softer as he tested to see if she was truly asleep now, listening to the steadiness of her breath.

He closed the book and snapped off the light beside her bed, leaving him only the hallway light and her nightlight as his guide to get out of the room. Leaving the book on her nightstand, he backed away from the stool he had sat on next to her and headed to the room he shared with Emma down the hall. He knew he'd find her still awake and waiting on him, as she was planning to read a bit before they headed to bed themselves.

"We've never discussed it, you know?" she said as he carefully shut the door behind him. "A baby. We've never discussed kids or marriage or any of that. We barely survived my anxiety over moving in together. I'm not sure we're ready to add to that yet."

"Aye," he said, disappearing into the closet to remove his boots. "I didn't pick that book up to pressure you, love. I didn't realize what it was. It was an innocent mistake. But in terms of the future, I suppose I do picture us married and with maybe a child or two to add to our family."

"I wasn't talking about the book," she said when he emerged shirtless. "I was thinking about Hannah. You know the longer we take care of her the more people are going to tell us we should adopt her."

"That would be the natural assumption," he conceded. He pulled back the cover on the bed, sinking down onto his back and sliding his cold feet against her bare legs. She squealed and hit him playfully with the book, keeping her finger between the pages to remember her spot.

"Killian, I'm serious. Maybe…I know it's fast and we are just getting into our new kind of normal, but do you think we could do this?"

He rolled onto his side and propped his head up on the brace of his left arm. "Love, I assure you that you can do anything. You've proven it time and again. I have doubts about my own abilities, but I would not let that stop me from being by your side. She's a little girl in need of a home. I can think of no one who understands that better than the two of us."

She sank down a little on the headboard, using her bent legs to hold up the book. "I don't know much more about this than you do," she pointed out. "I have the memories Regina gave me, but I've never actually raised a kid. The stuff we've been doing this weekend? That's the fun stuff. The games. The shopping. The tea party. That's all the good stuff. What do I do when she gets sick? Or when she misbehaves? At least with Henry I have Regina doing most of the heavy lifting. I just kind of show up and kick his butt back in gear."

"But you seem to understand her," Killian protested lightly. "You understand how she feels being alone and shuffled about. You're quite good with her, impressive really."

"So are you. You seem to be able to coax smiles and laughs out of her when nobody else can."

"Swan, I have no objections to us raising the lass, but you will have to navigate us through these waters you call red tape. I haven't a clue where to begin with that."

"I'm not too sure either, but maybe we should go see Archie. He can point us in the right direction. If we're serious about doing this…"

"I should think we are, love," he said, his voice a bit deeper. "I dare say we have been moving on this path since you walked through the door of this house with that little lass."

"You think you know me so well," she challenged playfully. "You've always said I was an open book."

"Aye, one that I can't put down," he said. His right arm snaked out to pull her over closer to him. Placing a kiss to her cheek and then her mouth, he pulled back and smiled hopefully at her. "I love you, Emma. I am quite enjoying this role that I have played in Henry's life. If now is our time to add to our family, I can think of no greater addition than Hannah."

***HOHOHO***

Hannah seemed mesmerized by the colorful classroom and the slightly older woman who immediately welcomed her like a mother hen. There were coloring sheets on the table and play centers set up in each and every corner. Killian seemed just as mesmerized as Emma explained that this was pretty much par for the course when it came to such things. They each received quite forceful hugs from the child as she was led off by Roland to see the pet guinea pig that class was supposed to name that day.

"She'll be fine," Mrs. Potts promised, shooing them both out of the classroom with a big sweeping motion. Emma almost forgot to put the lunchbox on the table in the rush to get out into the hallway.

Emma stared for a beat too long at the closed door with the construction paper tree on it, her mind wandering to her own first days of school. There had been many, as she had transferred usually three or four times in a school year. "I guess that's that."

Killian traced the line on the linoleum tile with the toe of his boot and sighed. "I know we wanted this to be successful for her, but it feels a bit empty right now."

She turned around from the door, her hand splaying out on his chest. "Hey," she said, waiting for him to lift his head and look at her. "We're doing okay, right? I know this hasn't exactly been how we imagined our future, but we're doing the right thing. We're better for her than some group home with a dozen kids coming in and out."

"Who are you trying to convince, love?" His face was one of contradictions as he smiled but still wore the look of a worried man in his eyes. "You do realize that if we are having this hard of a time letting her go off to school that we are going to be hard pressed to send her to live someplace else?"

"Maybe you checked out a book that will help," she said with a laugh. "Come on. We've got just enough time to go to Granny's before we head over for our appointment with Archie."


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: I have no idea about the laws of Maine, but I needed to take some liberties for this story. Dedicated to thedarkoneswan.

Emma had a deeper admiration for Archie than most people in the town of Storybrooke. He never caused anyone any problems, seeking understanding more than vengeance. And despite his seemingly lonely existence, he was content to be of service to others. Even when she and Killian sat on the lumpy couch in front of him, she could see that he wanted to say just the right thing to her.

"I can't say that I'm surprised," he said, pushing his glasses up his nose. "It seems quite a natural fit."

Killian smiled at that news, squeezing Emma's hand. "Bloody hell," he exclaimed. "That's all there is to it then? We are her parents now?"

The nervousness returned as the light haired man read from the file in earnest. "It's not quite that simple," he said with a strained voice. "I'm afraid that as a ward of the state, there will be some hoops to jump through. We may need to consult with Regina or even Gold about the paperwork. You see, Hook, you don't exactly exist in this realm's system. You have no birth certificate, record of employment, or anything. You don't even have a social security number."

"I have those things," Emma said before Killian could even respond. "I think part of them are in storage, but I have them." She smiled proudly. Since her release from jail, she had worked steadily, made a good living and had a clean track record. However, the slight downturn of Archie's mouth made her wonder.

"Emma, you do have a jail record. I realize it was a juvenile one, but it is public knowledge now. And you have been off the grid, so to speak, for a while now. With the exception of the year with Henry in New York, you've been living and working in a town that doesn't exist. That will be hard to explain."

"And that means that we can't do this," Emma answered knowingly. "At least we know now. It's better this way. We won't get our hopes up. We won't get hers up either." She used her right hand to grab for her purse, ignoring that Killian was still sitting motionless on that uncomfortable couch. "Thank you for your time, Archie."

The therapist cleared throat, reaching for a half full glass of water. "I said it was complicated, Emma. I never said impossible." Shuffling through the thin stack of papers, he seemed to find what he was looking for and smiled. "When Regina adopted Henry, it wasn't exactly easy. I didn't know it at the time, but there was a lot of paperwork and whatnot that Gold and Regina created to make it happen. Fake identity and all that. It might be prudent to talk to them."

At the mere mention of Gold, Killian's back became ramrod straight, his eyes colder and his mouth a thin line. "I don't think so, mate."

"Regina would help us," Emma said a bit more understanding. "There's no need to involve Gold in on this."

***HOHOHO***

Since their return from the Underworld, Emma could not help noticing that Killian was more affectionate. It wasn't just the way he curled his arms around her each night or the kisses that always turned out to be far more passionate and loving than intended. It was the subtle touches. It was the winks while he stood in line at Granny's and she waited. It was the way he pulled her feet into his lap when they were at home watching a movie with Henry. There were the moments when he shared whatever his lunch or dinner selection was because he did not want her to miss out by choosing something else. So it was not a surprise that he held her hand tightly in his own as they waited on Regina to meet them, including pulling their entwined appendages to his mouth to lightly kiss the back of hers.

"She is a beautiful lass," he said when Emma pulled out her phone to see a text from her mother. The teacher had been so excited about Hannah's arrival at school that she snuck down between classes to peek inside and snap quick photos of the young girl's first day. There on Emma's screen was Hannah stacking blocks with Roland. The blonde child's face was the picture of focus as she placed her tongue in the corner of her mouth and added the top block.

"Yes, she is," Emma agreed. "And according to my mother, smart too."

"I have no doubt."

To her credit, Regina listened to them and their questions with very few interruptions. Her words aren't exactly encouraging, but Emma and Killian persisted with the request that she could help them push through some of the paperwork required.

"It might be easier just to make a baby than adopt one," she said grimly, arms folded in front on her on the oversized desk. "Maine is a bit of a tricky situation, as I'm sure that Dr. Hopper has told you. While Gold arranged for my adoption of Henry, that wasn't done within state boundaries. There are home visits. Examinations. They will look at bank accounts. They will look at your relationships to see who might come into contact with the child. It's all very complicated."

"But you can help, right?" Emma persevered. "With birth certificates and documentation for us. It can't be that hard to create that stuff."

The mayor's lips were stained with a reddish tint that was stark against her lighter complexion. "I wouldn't say easy, but the papers are the easier facet. Dr. Hopper can also sign off on things like the home visit and psychological evaluation, as can Dr. Whale on the physical aspects. There are other things though."

"Which is what you are referring to as the hard part?" Killian asked, having been silent through much of the exchange.

Regina cleared her throat delicately. "Laws on these things vary from state to state. Maine happens to be among the strictest. It might, on first glance, seem easier to have Emma adopt the child. Alone. I know in my case the whole process of a single parent adoption was the only option I had at the time."

Emma shot a glance at the man sitting there on her right, wondering if he was picking up on the conversation in the same way she was at that point. So many times she could take for granted that he knew and understood things, but the truth was that he was still very much out of his depth in Storybrooke. Still, he tried hard, and his efforts did not go unnoticed. He was quick to master many of the things, but governmental bureaucracy seemed a tall order.

"We want to adopt her together," Emma said, again looking toward Killian for his agreement. He nodded sternly to her relief. "We want to be her parents."

"That's a good thing since as far as I know Maine only allows married couples to adopt. Single adoption is limited to family members like a brother or sister, niece or nephew." She looked a bit sympathetic as her words sunk in more fully. "Now it has been over a decade so I don't know if the laws might have changed. It'll take some research too."

***HOHOHO***

To say that Hannah enjoyed school was an understatement. She was fully engrossed in every aspect, informing Killian and Emma about the games and books. She described in detail the playground equipment and began to list the children in the class as her friends. At dinner that night – a deliciously warm stew that Killian swore was a staple on his ship – she had even lined them up with Henry as her teacher had done at snack time and made them walk to the table in a straight line. Henry had snickered a bit at that, but a quick glance from Emma and he was on board and reminding Killian that hands belong at your sides not on others.

"This is delicious," Emma said, taking another spoonful into her mouth. "I thought captains wouldn't have to cook. Didn't you have crew for that?"

"A leader should be able to step into any position," Killian stated. "While I may not have had to do it much, I firmly believed it to be important to man any post on my ship." He sat there proudly, watching the three dive into his creation. Even Hannah, who was somewhat of a picky eater, as most 4 year olds are, was slurping up the vegetables, meat, and broth as if she did not have to breathe between spoonfuls.

Blinking up at the man, Hannah questioned him about his ship, which was just the right thing to do to get him to talk to her. Soon the conversation evolved into one of sea creatures and how there seemed to be no limit to how much rain could fill the seas. Henry chimed in with a few middle school science facts that seemed to perplex both the child and Killian, but still they allowed him to be part of the discussion.

"It's too bad it's not warmer," Emma said a bit wistfully. "We could take it out for a sail and show Hannah the coastline."

"Her," Killian answered automatically. "A ship is a her, love. Don't degrade the Jolly Roger just because you can't fully understand her beauty."

Emma rolled her eyes dramatically and crossed her arms over her chest. She knew just how much that ship meant to Killian, and in turn how much she meant to him. He had not seemed to hesitate to trade his ship for a chance to find and bring her back. And while she knew she could have at one point attributed his actions to the fact that bringing her back would save her family and the town, she knew now that he was being quite a bit more selfish in wanting her near him. That wasn't a bad thing, she thought, watching him return to a talk about how fish could breathe under water.

Taking a bite of the thick crusty bread that Emma had decided went well with their dinner, Henry observed the situation. "You know this is getting kind of comfortable," he said, rocking back in his chair. The front two legs of the chair lifted off the ground.

"Not now," Emma said, hoping those two words would settle him. "And since you've got time to lean, kid, you've got time to clean." Nudging him back to the ground, she started stacking the empty dishes in front of him.

"So," Emma said, rinsing another of the bowls. "Killian and I went to see Archie and Regina today." She hoped that her voice sounded as nonchalant as someone talking about the weather.

"About adopting Hannah," Henry concluded, placing the bowl she had just rinsed into the dishwasher. When she had the audacity to look shocked, he laughed. "You're not fooling anyone. The kid is like your mini-me. It makes sense. She needs a home. This place is big enough. You are already acting like a mom to her. And let's face it. The kid could ask for the moon, a million dollars, and a Barbie Dream House and Killian would jump at the chance to get it for her."

"Nothing is official yet," Emma said, avoiding the urge to protest and argue. "Regina seems to think this might be a bit of a challenge."

"Why?"

"A variety of reasons," Emma told him, adding a few of the more important ones. She couldn't reveal all her idiosyncrasies to her 13 year old son, but there were a few that he could understand.

He seemed quite nonplussed by the ideas and challenges, offering advice for each. When it came to the idea that a social worker might balk that she was a single woman with one child already and living with a man she was not married to, he laughed. "So you get married. No big deal."

Emma practically snorted a cough at his idea. "Married? No big deal?" she asked. "Have you met me? I don't think that is in the cards right now, kid."

Ignoring her ardent protests, Henry continued cleaning up the few remaining items. "Why not? Don't you want to spend the rest of your life with him? Isn't that why we went to the Underworld in the first place? Isn't that why you got this house?"

"Henry's it not that…" She paused, glancing back over her shoulder in through the dining room. Thankfully she and Henry were keeping their voices low. "I don't know that we're ready."

"I think he's ready," Henry observed. "And I think that you're scared. The question is why."

"I don't have a great track record," she reminded him. "And things are going pretty well just the way they are, right? I mean, you like Killian. You don't feel neglected or anything, right?"

Henry balled up a fist and lightly tapped his head. "I'm doing as well as the grandson of Snow White and Prince Charming can be. I'm the son of the Evil Queen. The son of the savior turned Dark One turned Savior. One mom is with Robin Hood. One mom is with Captain Hook. My dad was the son of Rumpelstiltskin. And I'm now the author. It's a miracle that I'm not in more therapy than I already am. But no, your living with Killian doesn't make me feel all neglected or anything. And adopting Hannah wouldn't either. I think it's a great idea."

From their vantage point in the kitchen, she could see Killian saying something to Hannah that made the child laugh with glee. It was a nice sight, she decided, wiping her hands on a towel. Despite the years of piracy and revenge, his dissent into darkness and death, and general melancholy that seemed a cloud around him at times, he seemed quite happy in that moment. This little bit of domesticity, the home they shared, a little girl who looked at them both as parental figures, her son being that glue, and the wonderful feeling that maybe this was right, was more than she could have hoped for in life just a few years earlier.

Flipping off the overhead light, Emma sauntered back to the dining room table to stifle a laugh as Hannah was telling Killian about a movie she had seen on television. The fearsome pirate was trying his best to drag information out of her and keep his cool at the same time.

"There is a boy named Peter who can fly," she said in all seriousness, a finger tapping her cheek in hopes of remembering the details. "And a pirate who hates him." Her cherub like face lit up that she had remembered a word like pirate.

Shifting uncomfortably, Killian did not appear that thrilled when Emma ran her hand over his shoulder and sat in the chair beside him. "That sounds like a great movie," Emma said seriously. "What was this pirate's name? Do you remember?"

Still tapping her cheek, Hannah's eyes flashed upward. "Captain….Captain…Hook. Captain Hook."

Killian groaned and his mouth dropped a bit as if he might say something to the child. However, Emma pinched his arm and raised her eyebrows to say that such information was normal in this realm. "Maybe we can watch it sometime," she said, noting the amused expression on Henry's face and the pained one on Killian's. "I know I'd like to see it."

"Me too," Henry piped up. "Fun for the whole family."

All eyes flew to Killian, whose red cheeks did nothing to mask the way his eyes narrowed to slits. "Bloody hell," he muttered, ignoring that such language was not good in front of Hannah. "I suppose if everyone else wants to do this…"

"Saturday night," Henry decided then and there. "We can invite Grandma and Grandpa too."

***HOHOHO***

To Emma's surprise, life with Hannah was easier than she had first imagined that it would be when she considered it. Hannah loved to go to school, adored the attention heaped on her when Killian would pick her up at noon and walk with her to Emma's work. The three of them would enjoy and leisurely lunch, sometimes joined by David if he was available. Hannah did not seem too spoiled by the attention, as she eagerly greeted either of the two adults and snuck not so covert waves at Henry on the rare occasions she saw him at school.

"Anyone here?" Killian called out, his prosthetic hand sounding hollow on the metal part of the door. He had still not truly been seen with his hook since Hannah's arrival. It was at his insistence, especially after she had shown such an interest in the cartoon version of him.

David had greeted them on his way out to the patrol car, sneaking the young girl a piece of peppermint as a treat. She had smiled wide at his gift and cradled it in her hands like a precious stone. Eyes lit up, she stared up at him and thanked him profusely before skipping (a newly learned skill) to catch up with Killian. When they entered the larger office space, they had found it empty and Emma no place around.

"Here," she called out, balancing a brown and white bankers' box in her arms and wrinkling her nose to avoid sneezing at the dust. "Just trying to find a file."

"Your lunch, milady," Killian said, grandly bowing to Hannah's delight. She mimicked his movement and practically sent her backpack to the floor with the effort.

Dropping the box on the table, Emma wiped her hands on her denim pants and smiled. "Such service," she said, placing hand over her heart. "I could get used to this."

Killian and Emma busied themselves with the setup of their lunch as Hannah answered their questions about her morning. The gossip and the goings on of a preschool class in Storybrooke had become quite the conversation piece. Roland was going on about his new sister in class, telling everyone who would listen that he was not impressed with her cries and sobs. Alexandra was showing off her new shoes, which she said were more expensive than any of the other kids' footwear. And some boy named Bobby had gotten hurt, creating the most exciting moment of the week so far.

"Are you hungry?" Emma asked when the child stopped talking long enough to take a breath. It was hard to believe that she was the same quiet and shy girl from the week before who could barely tell them her name. Shaking her head, the little girl bounced on the balls of her feet and ran back to grab her backpack instead of to the table.

"Lass?" Killian called out to her, as confused as Emma about what would make Hannah retreat.

She came back with a cream colored sheet of paper and waved it in front of the blonde sheriff. "For you," she said, shoving it toward her.

Emma took it gingerly, the colorful drawing depicting four people and some yellow dots that she assumed to be stars. Taking note of what her mother had said about children's artwork, she didn't ask what it was she was looking at. Instead, she motioned for Hannah to come closer. "Why don't you tell me about it?" she asked, her circling around Hannah to keep her still.

"That's me, and you, and Killian, and Henry," she said as though anyone could see that.

"And what are we doing?" Emma asked.

"Looking at the stars through Killian's looking thing." She still said his name in a draw out way, over pronouncing each syllable. "Like last night." The night before the foursome had trouped up the stairs to the third floor of the house with the telescope, some popcorn, and a few pillows and blankets. Hannah had been asleep for about two hours when she woke up with nightmares, crying out for them in a tiny voice. Declaring nighttime the worst of all, Hannah had presented a challenge to Killian who had insisted it was one of the best. They had spent quite a while counting stars and looking for constellations between the floating clouds.

Emma blinked, her cheek resting against the top of Hannah's golden hair. "I love it," she declared. "Can I keep it here at work so I remember you guys?"

Hannah nodded, looking up to Killian. "I can make you one too," she said, concern obvious. "You don't have to feel left out."

"I would love that," he said, crossing around to stoop down next to them. "I believe you might have a talent for art." Emma leaned in against him, his arms circling around them both as they sat there for a long moment.

She beamed proudly as they began their meal, her conversation turning to what she would draw him at the next opportunity.


	7. Chapter 7

**_I am writing this chapter (the second to last) as I sit at the beach and listen to the waves crash nearby. Hope everyone, but especially my CS SS recipient thedarkoneswan enjoys this._**

Archie carried with him a clipboard as he arrived at the Jones-Swan house, his nervous expression buried under the more stoic one. He assured Emma that the visit was strictly routine, allowing him to see what arrangements had been made for Hannah, as well as other details of the living arrangements.

"Children can be curious," he said, noting the unlocked lower cabinet where the cleaning supplies were stored. "It might be helpful to lock these types of things."

"Of course," Emma nodded, looking back at Killian to see if he was writing that down. While Archie was promising that his report would be a good one, he was making quite a few observations about dangers and concerns around the house. It was all a bit overwhelming to consider, given that Emma had never thought about such things.

After checking a few more spots, such as the laundry room and measuring the space between the spindles on the banister, Archie decided that it was more than enough and that they could easily make the corrections. He had asked his questions of them both together and separately, focusing on their reasoning for adoption and plans for the future.

"No, I don't know if we will have children or not," Emma had said. "It isn't something in our plans right now." Killian was bit more vague with his answers, stating that it would not affect the way he felt for Hannah. By the time Archie left that day, they were due to pick Hannah up at any moment.

"I'll get started on the list with haste," Killian said, tugging on his coat. It wasn't a long one, but Emma was already feeling that familiar sensation of panic rising. The permanence and gravity of what they were doing seemed to weigh especially heavy on her shoulders, physically lowering them as she stood before him. Taking a step toward her, he held out his hand to her. Once their fingers were fitted together, he tugged her into his embrace, making her laugh aloud with the abrupt movement.

"We need to go get her," she protested, barely moving her mouth from his. "We can't be late."

"No, that would be most detrimental," he mockingly agreed, covering her mouth again with his. His lips were soft yet insistent against hers, evidence of his assertive desire. His handless arm was tight around her waist, his fingers still mingling with hers as her free hand rose to his cheek. Her protest was lost as their kiss deepened. There was a certain satisfaction that surged within him, not only from the sensation of their bodies together, but the knowledge that their love was strong and truer than he could have ever known. As they were known to do, their foreheads touched when the need for air became too much.

"I love you," she whispered, a note of disbelief in her voice. "I love you so much. You do know that, right?"

"Aye," he answered just as softly. "And I you."

"We're doing the right thing, aren't we? I know most people wait before they add children to their lives, but she's here and needs…"

Letting go of her hand, he lifted his to cradle the side of her face, thumb tracing over her cheekbone. "My love, we have never been very conventional in our relationship. It has been more about how we feel at the moment. And at this moment I should love nothing more to than to raise Hannah with you. She reminds me of what you must have been like at that age and perhaps even a bit of myself as a an older lad without the benefit of parents. We can give her what we were never so lucky to have."

"I want to do that," Emma said with a slight catch in her voice. "Do you think we can? I don't know if I am ready."

"We won't know until we try, love. And I should think that Hannah will be quite patient with us." He chuckled as she tugged on his coat, pulling him closer. "You don't agree?"

"She's probably going to be very impatient if we leave her at school."

***HOHOHO***

Henry was not happy that his algebra test was scheduled for the same day as Robin and Regina had chosen to cut down a tree for Christmas. They promised to wait until after school was out for the day, but he swore it would not be as fun after his brain had spent all that time finding the right answers.

"I should think your brain won't be too taxed," Killian said as the two stood waiting at the counter for an order from Granny's. "You are a bright lad. This shouldn't be the worst of your troubles."

"It's not just the test," Henry admitted, leaning his elbows onto the counter.

"What is it that has you so vexed?" Killian asked. "I imagine it must be a bit of a challenge for you given your current state."

Henry nodded absently, his eyes traveling over the small crowd gathered around the tables. When he turned back to face the pirate, he contorted his lips to one side. "You're happy here, right? With my mom?"

"Aye," Killian answered. "I have everything I could hope for with your mom, you, and Hannah."

"It's just that my mom and I…we didn't have time together when I was growing up. And well, I always imagined what it would be like when I finally found her. I wanted to know her. I wanted to be a part of things with her."

Killian's eyebrows raised in question. "And you don't feel a part of things?"

"No, I do," he said slowly. "It's just that my mom is so much more than just my mom. And I feel like I have to protect her sometimes. You know what I mean? I have to watch out for her because she's not used to having people love her and care for her. And she's my mom. She's…she's been through a lot." He frowned, looking down at the sneakers on his feet. "I want to protect her."

"You do realize that I would never wish to hurt you or your mom. I have quite a stake in protecting your mother's heart, as well." He gave a quick smile to Granny who gestured that the order would be ready momentarily. "It is a sizable job, especially here in Storybrooke. I should think there are tasks enough for the both of us."

"It's just…It's just that it isn't very permanent." The boy's face flushed as he looked away from the man. "I asked my mom about that, you know. I wanted to know if you felt the same. I mean…is your idea of a future with my mom just living together. Do you want to marry her? It would make it easier to adopt Hannah."

Killian swallowed hard, his confusion making way for shock. "Lad, I am going to take a wild guess that your mother doesn't know that you are asking me of this. And I'm not sure of the protocol here. Yes, I have dreamed of marrying your mother. I don't deny that, though I am reluctant to say that to her. She is more than a bit skittish about such things."

"My grandparents would probably appreciate it," Henry said sheepishly. "Seriously, you've thought about it though?"

It was obvious how uncomfortable Henry felt with this conversation, his weight shifting and his eyes darting. If Killian was not so involved, he might have laughed. "Henry, I am quite an old fashioned man and would prefer to be married to your mother, but I'm not looking to scare her off with the idea."

***HOHOHO***

It was not quite the mess that she had imagined from television and movies, but there were tiny mounds of flour and batter on the counters. Hannah's face bore the marks of chocolate from the experience, along with a smiling and wide eyed look that screamed she'd had too much sugar. If she had to pinpoint any one thing that made the moment all the more worthwhile, it was Killian sitting cross legged on the floor next to Hannah, watching the cookies bake in the oven.

She told him that she needed help cleaning up their baking mess, but he had been so enthralled by the sight that she had left the oven light on and let him watch the magic of dough turning into the round circles of sugary goodness. His voice sounded just as impressed as Hannah's as they went from pale beige to a golden brown.

"Didn't you see ovens and cookies before?" she asked him, amazed that he could not have understood the concept. However, she was not sure that even after handful of visits to the Enchanted Forest that she could understand the technology or cuisine.

"It wasn't like this," he assured her.

They had not fully planned the cookie making adventure out that afternoon, as it was simply a last minute activity that Emma had dreamed up during Hannah's afternoon nap. Most of the day had been spent with paperwork, a conference call with the Department of Family and Children's Services in Maine, and gathering reference letters. The evidence of their hard work had been spread over the dining room table.

"I think we have it all in order, Swan," Killian said when she had quizzed him on the background that Regina had created for him. He rattled off a birthdate, place of his childhood, and parents' names. There was no mention of piracy, flying ships, nor magical beings or realms. She might have been biased, but she was sure he sounded quite convincing.

He had been rushing about to go pick Hannah up and walk her back to the house when she stopped him, her expression thoughtful. "With all this planning, talking, paperwork, and convincing, we haven't really asked her," she said, throwing a scarf around his neck as he grumbled. "Archie wants to talk to her for his report, but we haven't even mentioned it to her."

Killian's soft expression, the one he wore when they were alone and he let her love fully sink over him, faded to concern. "Aye," he mumbled. "We should give the child a choice. It seems only fitting to do so."

So maybe the cookies were a distraction that Emma had dreamed up to postpone the conversation. Killian had seemed uncomfortable too, shooting looks as though trying to silently communicate with Emma and appearing uncomfortable on the few false starts. It was not until she had pulled the cookie sheets from the oven, waving off their hands from the hot surface, and pouring the milk that she had gathered her own courage. It probably wasn't the best of parenting moves to offer a cookie before dinner, but it was just the one.

"Hannah," Emma began as the child nibbled on the cookie. "Hannah, you've been with us for about two weeks now." The time had flown by, the once nondescript room changing into a veritable toy store turned princess palace.

Nodding at the familiar word – calendar time at school was one of her favorites – Hannah took a swig of the milk. Killian smiled fondly at her, his own glass of milk a bit out of place in his hand.

"We were thinking that maybe you might like to live here from now on." Emma had not yet touched her cookie, pausing to let the words sink into the air around them. Hannah was a bright 4 year old, but the concepts of home and family were hard for even adults to understand. "With us."

"You'd be my parents?" Hannah asked, her dark lashes standing out against her paler skin and hair.

"Aye," Killian chimed in. "We'd like very much to be your mama and papa." Like Emma he had paused his eating and barely breathed as the child took in this idea. Even to him the words felt quite heavy.

"For how long?"

"You would live with us and be a part of our family forever," Emma tried to explain. "Is that something you might like?" Knowing that never truly heard those words herself, Emma wondered how her four year old self might have responded.

"Really? You'll let me?" It wasn't just the sugar that made the little girl smile so widely and her eyes dance excitedly.

"Yes," Emma managed to say. "You'll be our daughter. That is if you want."

To a chant of yes's, Hannah scrambled into Emma's lap with her knees digging into the woman's thighs. She wrapped her small arms about the sheriff's neck and placed two kisses to her cheeks before essentially falling backward to Killian to do the same. Both of the adults struggled to keep their emotions in check as she showered them with the enthusiasm she had for the idea. It was Killian who reminded them they had dinner to deal with and that Henry would be there for the evening shortly.

Hannah ran toward the stairs to follow the instructions of washing up and picking up a few of the scattered toys before the meal. However, as she reached that third step she turned and looked at them. "If you're going to be my mama and papa, what does that make Henry?"

"The lad will be your brother," Killian answered his arm winding around Emma's waist as they watched her process that. They both let out little breaths of relief as she smiled, turned, and ran up the stairs as fast as her legs could carry her.

Emma's head fell against Killian's shoulder, her body sagging with release. "I didn't know how nervous I was until I had to ask her," she admitted. "I don't think I've ever been that anxious about anything."

"Aye, I imagine it was a bit like waiting on an answer to a proposal of marriage. Sure of the response, but desperate nonetheless." He chuckled when Emma jumped, slapping her palm against his shoulder.

"Just how many women have you proposed to, pirate?" she asked.

"None as of yet," he admitted, shifting his feet a bit and then heading toward the kitchen. She caught his arm to pull him back. "You talk of your defenses, love, and how you have run from even the slightest hint of commitment. But I have the same traits. Yet I find myself walking headlong into this future with you. It has not been altogether unpleasant."

"For a man with such flowery language usually, I'm not really feeling the flattery here," Emma chided good naturedly. "And I think I'm doing quite well overcoming my fear of commitment. We're living together. I even offered to share a heart with you." Her head tilted to the right and her tone softened as if she were discussing something less important. "I told you I loved you first. I even asked you out on a date before you asked me out. In fact, we might still be waiting if I had relied on you to make that move." Her free hand fisted at her hip as she continued the litany of things that revealed her ability to commit.

Killian smirked at her, amused that she would be so forceful of feelings on the topic. "Then I suppose my time is limited to make this next move," he said, trying to sound thoughtful. "I will have to quit my dilly dallying and do it without some grand gesture." His bright eyes dropped to the necklace she wore with his brother's ring.

"Killian…"

"I do believe it is still my duty to ask you, love. Old fashioned as that might be."

"You aren't seriously going to ask me to marry you here and now?" Emma asked, her breath hitching. "We're standing here with dirty glasses and dishes. I've got to find the pasta to go with the sauce we've made. Hannah will be down here in a minute. Henry's going to…"

He chuckled. "Well, love, that reaction was quite a bit nicer than any I might have worried about before. You didn't run."

Huffing her dissatisfaction, Emma frowned. "So you aren't going to ask."

"I supposed I might need more information about the customs of this realm, Emma. I have given you a ring, but perhaps you might like another? Or I know you were quite taken with the way the monkey did it on that plate of pastry and sugar? There is quite a bit to think about, you know? Location? Audience?"

"You're stalling," Emma accused. "And you know I don't care about it being a big show or a ring. This ring means everything to me."

Reaching out, he lifted the chain over her head, dangling the engraved ring between them. "You should at least have one that fits. And no, a princess deserves more than a rushed proposal in the midst of a kitchen."

***HOHOHO***

Emma was trying to play catch up with her father over stale coffee and files the next afternoon. His knowing smile that faded each time she caught him looking at her was enough to tell the perceptive woman that he knew of Killian's intentions. She almost asked him, but decided she didn't want to open that can of worms for a discussion into her love life with her father.

What she didn't know was that Killian had not only been by to secure her father's blessing, but to discuss a few details with her mother. Mary Margaret had met him during her lunch break to ferry Hannah over to him at the one and only jewelry store in Storybrooke. She had led the charge of discussing cutting down the ring's size while maintaining the integrity of the design. Killian stood back with Hannah's hand in his own and let the woman at the task.

"You, milady, drive hard bargain," he said in admiration. "I do believe that Emma may have come by her pirating ways from you."

Giving a quick glance at Hannah, who still did not know the townspeople's other lives, the teacher smiled. "My life was not always so simple and I'd say you had some influence on that side of Emma too."

The jeweler returned with a crudely drawn rendition of what the ring would look like at its new size, placing it on the surface of the glass case for them to inspect. While Killian and Mary Margaret poured over it, Hannah's attention was drawn to the shining display of rings on display.

"Papa?" she asked, pulling his hand by the fingers. "Papa look."

Killian could not mask the smile on his face at hearing that moniker. He had told her to take her time in learning to call him that, but as Emma pointed out, it was easier to say than Killian. "Aye," he said, stooping down to be on eye level with her. "They are lovely, aren't they?"

Mary Margaret looked pleased as she watched the fearsome pirate melt upon the girl's attention. She had seen the man's soft looks at her daughter and the tender way he would touch her. However, watching him with Hannah was a sight.

"I want one," Hannah declared, looking straight at the largest of the diamond solitaires. "Please."

Killian looked slightly amused that she would make such a demand when she was usually so complacent. However, he was also more than a little touched by her sincerity in that moment. "Love, that is quite a ring, meant for a man to give to his true love."

Hannah's pout was a thing of beauty, lip protruding and near tears in her eyes. "Please," she said again, hoping the word would work the magic that it had the night before when Henry had asked to have soda with dinner and Emma had caved.

Killian looked chagrinned as he scanned the store for something that might work in its stead. He saw the answer in a red machine near the front door and hoped it might do the trick. Scooping the child up in his left arm, he carried her over to it, digging his hand into his pocket to pull out a bit of change. He had seen such a device at Granny's where Henry often bought those large balls of candy that made his cheeks puff with the fullness. To his dismay, he had a few gold and copper pieces only, which would not make the machine work.

Rushing to the rescue, Mary Margaret ran forward and placed two quarters into his palm. He smiled gratefully at her before dropping them into the slots. A plastic bubble toppled out and into Hannah's waiting hand. Twisting one end while she held tight to the base, it bubble opened to reveal a gaudy plastic ring. He raised a single eyebrow as she gasped and declared it beautiful. "Then it is a fitting treat for you, little love."


	8. Chapter 8

The movie had given way to infomercials selling some sort of cleaning product that was supposed to work wonders. Emma was glad that Killian was already fast asleep, his sock covered feet on the coffee table and his head thrown back over the edge of the couch. She knew that he would have been watching that infomercial with vigor, as he seemed to believe everything that the charlatans on television tried to sell. He was a veritable encyclopedia of slogans when they shopped together, asking her why she bought the cheaper laundry detergent. Did she want dingy whites?

Henry was on the floor, his head resting where he had been sitting beside them. However, when Hannah began to squirm and climb all over him and Killian in an attempt to play during the Christmas movie marathon that Henry had lined up for the family. Choosing to protect himself, he had slid down onto the rug and only suffered the occasional small foot to the head when Hannah shifted position. To his credit, he was patient with her movements and Killian's confusion, offering explanations before the pirate had to ask.

Emma was the only one still awake, a slumbering Hannah splayed out across her as a bed. Her blonde head is tucked into Emma's shoulder and her legs bent up under her with a set of knees piercing the sheriff's stomach. It's not the most comfortable of positions, but Emma chose to savor it as a sign that the child felt comfortable with her. Her own feet were in Killian's lap, having divested themselves of the warm blanket that he had covered them both with before settling down. Even in his sleep he was absently running his hand along the soft skin of the top of her feet. Her free hand reached up to touch the ring that is always there. Frowning, she came up empty and without the talisman that had gotten her through dark days and time away from him.

With a slight kick of her foot, she made him stir, his hair sticking out in odd directions. "I'm not trying to sound needy here," she said when his blue eyes fluttered and strained to pull her into focus, "but when do I get my ring back?"

"Demanding a proposal?" he asked, his voice thick. "Sounds pretty needy to me, love."

She huffed indignantly. "You assume I'm saying yes."

"I assume nothing, Emma. I only hope." He groaned a bit to pull himself up to a more comfortable position, ignoring her comments that he was getting old. "And would you? Would you say yes if I were to ask you now?"

She felt Hannah's knees dig deeper into her stomach. "I could be convinced, maybe."

"Your mother seemed to think I should at least make the proposal a bit special," he said, his nose crinkling up slightly. "This isn't the most romantic of locales, Swan." He gestured toward the remnants of their popcorn and gummy bears that they had all feasted on earlier. Empty cans of soda and juice boxes littered flat surfaces.

She followed his movement and let her eyes settled on the sight. To him it was a mess, a disaster of trash. To her it was lived in and real. This was a family, she realized. Her son was at her side, head cocked to one side and mouth parted as he slept. His socks were ones that she had bought him and the sweatshirt a cast off from one of her previous jobs. A fire was still burning in the fireplace, casting a warm glow on everyone's face. The tree, the one that Killian and Henry had found and decorated with Hannah's help was twinkling with colored lights – a debate that had been hard fought. The little girl who needed her just as much as she needed this child was curled up, breath warm on her collar. The man she loved was alive and well, half of her heart beating in his chest. She caught him so many times staring at her, silently communicating his love for her with a soft caress or slight twitching smile. The very sight of them all gathered there, creating their own traditions and habits. She'd never thought of herself in this way, never considered herself big on family. Yet just a few hours earlier she'd been making plans for dinner at her parents, wrapping a toy she found for her brother, and discussing signing Hannah up for dance lessons like she wanted to take. "I think this," she said softly, not wanting to wake the sleeping young people, "is as romantic as any field of flowers or a grand ball."

"This?" he asked, scanning the space again.

As gracefully as she could, Emma rose from the couch and placed the sleeping child back on the cushions, tucking the throw blanket around her. Holding her hand out to Killian, she wiggled her fingers to him, indicating that she wanted him to follow her. "Swan?" he asked, standing up and placing his hand in her own. "What are you doing, love?"

Holding her other hand out, she looked at him expectantly. "Give me the ring, Killian."

"There you go being demanding again, love." He did not let go of her hand, preventing him from digging into his pocket.

"You love it," she laughed. "I'm serious though. I need the ring here, Killian." She loosened her grip allowing him to pull out the ring and hold it between his thumb and forefinger.

"Right here and now?" he asked again, eyeing the dark stone and swirling design. "You're sure?"

"More than," she replied. Standing in front of the flames in the fireplace, she smiled at him and sank down onto the hearth. Her left hand patted the brick next to her. He moved as though he was not certain, his eyebrow permanently raised as he stared upon her.

"So, Killian," she said, covering his hand, curling his fingers around the ring.

He sounded quite exasperated as he breathed out. "This is not your normal demeanor, love. You are normally so guarded about such things. Why the change?"

The fire was warm against Emma's back and again she stared out at the children sleeping in front of them. "After I was old enough to realize that I didn't have what other kids had, I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself I didn't want those things anyway. After Neal left, I told myself I was fine because it would have happened sooner or later. And in those few moments I could remember from the time Regina ended Pan's curse to driving over the town line, I told myself that it was fine because my parents had each other and even you were going to be better off without me." She swallowed hard, blinking up toward the ceiling for a moment. "But the more I got to know you. The more you broke my walls down. The more that you became a part of my life. The more that I realized that Henry, my mom, my dad, love me and aren't going to go away just because they get tired or it gets too rough."

Killian said nothing, waiting for her to continue, his expression softening to one of happy admiration of the woman she was at that moment. "You see," she continued. "This is what I want. I've almost lost it so many times now that I realize I'm not scared of actually having what I want – a family, a home, you. I'm scared of losing it. I'm scared that I'm too weak to go on if I have everything that makes me happy and then it goes away."

She squeezed his hand a bit tighter. "What is it that you want?" Killian asked softly.

"I want you," she said just as softly. "I want you and all the craziness of our lives. I want you fighting next to me the next time something happens. I want you bringing me lunch and reminding me that there is more to life than files and patrols. I want to see you being a father to Hannah and worrying about her grades or the boy she likes. I want you to take Henry sailing and give him tips on how to be a true hero. I want the two of us to be so busy with them that we fall into bed each night exhausted but grateful to be in each other's arms. I want to look back on all this someday and be more in love with you each day."

Killian's eyes seemed to shine more than ever, whether from unshed tears or the lights of the tree. "That is quite a wish, my love. I don't know if I could ever live up to the expectations that you have set there."

"I don't know that I can live up to it either, but I would like to try. I want to try with you."

"Aye, as do I."

"So what do you say?" she asked, lifting her chin in that way that she did when she was being her most brave. "Should we go for it? Me and you? Forever?"

"Aye, nothing should make me happier than to link my life to yours in yet another way." He leaned in, brushing his mouth against hers before the kiss turned a bit more passionate. Pulling back, the mischievousness of his grin and the sparkle of his blue eyes reminded Emma of the innuendo laden pirate she first encountered. "Did you just propose to me, Swan?"

She laughed, a bit too loudly given the others being asleep. "I guess I did."

"Perhaps I should wear this ring then?" he teased, pulling his hand back and holding the circle of silver aloft. She reacted as he knew she would, saying his name in an incensed tone. "But I still think it would look far better on your lovely finger." Nodding toward her left hand, he moved the ring in that direction. "May I?"

She laughed again, a breathy sound and wide smile as he did. "I didn't mean to take over the proposal."

"Perhaps you were just giving me a nudge. But I can ask if you should like. Emma Swan, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

The ring already sat on her hand, glinting and glimmering as the low flames of the fire shone on it. She watched that for a moment before lifting her gaze to meet his. "I think I can be convinced."

***HOHOHO***

"But Regina already put on your paperwork for the adoption that you are married," Mary Margaret protested as they stood in the mayor's office with its modern décor and severe black and white theme. "If you want to do this, we should plan something. We could have a beautiful ceremony this spring or summer. Something on the beach?"

"We can do that later," Emma said to her mother, watching from the corner of her eye as Regina shifted a few documents on the desk. "Killian and I want to do this now. We want to be married and ready to become Hannah's parents as a team."

"This does seem a bit rushed," David added, placing a hand on his wife's shoulder. "Are you sure that you don't want to wait? You could still go ahead with the adoption."

Emma's dress was not white, instead opting for a pale blue one that she had found in one of the stores in town. Belle's father had provided her with a small bouquet of flowers when Killian suggested such a thing for them. That had been right before he had plucked one of the flowers and extended it to Hannah.

"I want to do this, Dad," Emma insisted. "I love him. He loves me. We don't need to wait. We've fought for this future together and I'm ready to start living it. I'm ready to accept those moments that come with him." She couldn't help noticing the way that David seemed to show a flash of acceptance in his facial expression before leaning in and kissing the top of her head.

"I'll go see what's keeping that groom of yours." His voice was gruff as he walked away from the mother and daughter.

Mary Margaret's own expression softened too. "I'm proud of you, Emma," she said, not hiding the crack in her voice. "And if you don't want the big fancy wedding fit for a princess, I can live with that. I want you to be happy. And Killian makes you happy. Hannah and Henry…well, they are lucky to have you and Killian looking out for them."

Having found what she was looking for, Regina approached. "I think we're about ready here," she said. "I know I can do this legally, but the occasion has not ever really arose. Are you sure you don't want Archie to do this? He has more experience." It was as modest as Emma had ever seen the dark haired woman.

"No, I think it is perfect for you to do this. You are family, Regina. You're Henry's mom. You're my mom's stepmother. You're essentially my step-grandmother. And you're my friend. I want you here and a part of this day." She could feel her mother sway into her, squeezing her shoulder.

"It will be my pleasure," Regina said stoically. "Though if you call me Grandma, I'm calling the whole thing off."

In the adjacent conference room, Henry was fiddling with Killian's tie. He had that same look of concentration that Emma would get while performing some tasks. Hannah seemed oblivious to the anxiety and nervousness as she and Roland were chasing each other with the two dump trucks that Regina had started to keep there at the office for visits from Robin and Roland.

"Let me," David said, nudging his grandson to the side. "I suppose this is not a task you're used to?"

"Not much occasion for those," Killian admitted wryly. "Though I suppose you are anxious to tie any rope around my neck."

"Can't say the occasion hasn't crossed my mind," David laughed, a sound remarkably similar to Emma's. "But I think my daughter might have an issue if I killed you again."

Killian cleared his throat. "You know I'll do anything to protect her. She and Henry will always be safe with me, as will Hannah or whoever else comes along."

Taking a step back to admire his handy work on the tie, David groaned so loudly that he heard Roland speculate that he must have a tummy ache. "Can we not rush into that? I'm not quite ready for any big announcements any time soon."

"But I thought you were getting onto mom about wanting her to have kids and a husband," Henry chimed in with his solid memory. "What changed?"

David never did get to explain himself as Regina called them forward for the ceremony. It was not overly formal or classic, but it seemed to fit their situation well. Emma was walked down the makeshift aisle with David on one arm and Henry on the other. Robin stood at Killian's side and Mary Margaret at Emma's when they exchanged vows in front of Regina. She kept it pretty traditional, only having to stop when the babies got fussy and Roland asked his father why they were doing all this. Henry used his camera to play photographer, snapping pictures of every moment. One of his favorite photos was when Hannah became restless with all the vows and repeating. The blonde child tugged on Killian's leg, having him lift her up and hold her as they finished the last of the ceremony. She hid her eyes as Killian and Emma exchanged what was a chaste kiss on the lips to seal their fate as husband and wife.

While Hannah and Roland had both been slightly miffed at the idea of kissing, they weren't too traumatized. In fact, they recovered in time for a reception at Granny's that had pie instead of wedding cake and onion rings as appetizers. Granny allowed them to move some of the tables and have all the traditional dances as the wait staff served the regular customers. She even offered one of the unoccupied rooms for a one night honeymoon while Hannah spent the night with her grandparents and Henry headed to Regina's for the evening. It might not have been the wedding of a royal princess, but Emma was smiling and Killian couldn't keep his eyes off of her as they thanked everyone and bid the crowd good night.

***HOHOHO***

"What could they possibly want for next year if we got them all this now?" Killian asked, lugging another stack of wrapped boxes to put under the tree. He knew that Emma had dreamed of the Christmas morning where they all bounded down the stairs and enjoyed the excitement of tearing into the packages. She'd said as much during movies and television shows about the holidays. However, when Henry announced that he would be spending Christmas Eve with Regina and Robin, the plans changed.

It was closer to lunch time when David, Mary Margaret and Neal arrived. Their own packages added to the growing pile. Hannah was entertaining Neal by making funny faces as Mary Margaret seemed absolutely enthralled by the sight.

"Children always find a way to want more," Emma said, holding the door open for him. "Don't worry. I think next year will be an even bigger list."

She admitted to herself that she had probably gone overboard. The wish list from Hannah was completely fulfilled with toys and anything the child had even looked at in the store. However, just as that first day they had met her, she was still wishing for a kitten. After a few discussions with David and a few internet searches, they had settled on just the right one to adopt. David and Mary Margaret had snuck her over that morning with their things.

"Joys of parenthood?" Killian asked, mimicking the phrase that she had said more than once.

"Of course," she laughed.

By the time everyone arrived and the presents were being opened, Emma had nearly forgotten to take pictures. However, she and Mary Margaret shared that duty and tried to capture the moments. There was Roland's face when he got his new ice skates and Robin's enthusiasm for a book that he had wanted to read. Mary Margaret had to wipe away the tears at a family picture of Killian, Emma, Henry and Hannah from the wedding. David even jokingly gave Killian a box with three clip on ties. Henry thanked both his mothers for the new computer and printer. And Hannah declared each present her favorite, giving hugs as thank yous.

Killian was about to go into the back room where the black and white kitten was curled up when the loud knock at the door interrupted them all. He frowned slightly, assuming it to be Gold – the only one of the blood relatives of any of them not there. However, it was not the pawn broker standing there on the large front porch.

"Archie?" Emma asked, stepping up behind Killian. "What are you doing here?"

"I apologize for the intrusion, but I thought you would want this." In his hand was a letter sized envelope. "I hadn't checked my email yesterday and missed this."

Eyeing him suspiciously, Emma extended her hand to receive it. "Is this…"

"Temporary order came down from the state court," Archie explained. "Hannah's records were revealed. Her biological parents gave her up at birth. No others have made any claim as to parental rights. So she is yours. They will ask me for an update in six months when an adoption order can be delivered."

Emma stared at the still unopened envelope. "Seriously?"

"Congratulations," Archie said. "I should let you get back to your guests."

"Thank you," Killian answered, realizing that Emma was still a bit shocked. "You have…"

"You're the ones providing a home to that little girl," Archie argued. "You are the ones doing something. I did the paperwork."

He ignored their request to join them, stating he was on his way to spend some time at the diner. However, he did linger for a moment after they stated their gratitude again and shut the door, watching them join their family there around the tree. There was not another word to describe it. It was a family. No, it wasn't orthodox or easy, but they were a group of people who loved each other and made room in their hearts for more.


End file.
